


A Study in Inevitability

by Kairi_of_Knives



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Allura is still dead, Angst, Drifting Apart, Drifting back together, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Smut, Fix-It, Hurt/Comfort, I'm so sorry, Introspection on S7 and 8, M/M, Season 8 Spoilers, Temporary Shiro/Curtis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-14
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-09-18 07:06:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 43,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16990329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kairi_of_Knives/pseuds/Kairi_of_Knives
Summary: Shiro called Matt first, knowing that the other paladins and he didn't exact have the type of relationship where he could discuss his and Curtis's relationship issues.  Matt's first response was to send him Keith's holo-frequency and fix him with a blank stare."He doesn't want to talk, Matt.  If he cared, he would have said something by now."Matt sighed. "Don't do that. Don't warp his character in your head that way. When was the last time Keith ran from something before this?" He paused, let Shiro's silence be his answer. "The Garrison, Shiro. After they told the world we died on Kerberos. He doesn't run when he doesn't care. He runs when he cares too much. Stop pretending you don't know that better than anyone else in the damn universe."~~They never talked about what happened between Keith and the clone.  They really should have.  It left a hole in their relationship, one that only got bigger as Shiro settled into his post-war life with Curtis.  Some people are meant to be in your life though.  No matter how far he and Keith drifted apart, they always seemed to come back to each other.





	1. Love is Madness

**Author's Note:**

> Just wanted to preface this with: I didn't watch anything but the last episode of S8. I will eventually watch it, but not yet. I need to come to terms with it first or it will just make me very upset. Also I'm kinda in the middle of finals right now. But knowing that 1) Shiro and Keith didn't interact much at all 2) how it ended and 3) that I don't like it and most other people don't either, I decided to write this. It's not undoing anything. Just building upon it to reach a place I'd actually consider it to be an ending worthy of my boys.
> 
> Chapter title is also the title of a song. Love is Madness by Thirty Seconds to Mars and Halsey.

It starts the moment he wakes up from that pod. Everything, literally everything, hurts. His body, if he can even call it his, felt numb in some parts, too stiff in others. The headache of having his clones memories and his own jammed into the same head wasn't exactly great either. So much of it is so bizarre. Even just having a physical form again is so overwhelming Shiro nearly throws up once, when everyone finally leaves Black to go prepare for their journey to Earth. Keith, of course, immediately senses his distress and lays the dustiest, well worn blankets he's ever seen in the bottom of the pod for him. "It's not really a bed, but it will give you a place to lie down until you feel a bit more grounded," Keith explains, running a comforting hand through Shiro's hair. The look on his face is endlessly gentle. Fond in a way he can't put into words. Shiro has spent years being looked at by Keith and never did he remember it feeling like this.

It's paired with a memory. One that makes his upset stomach turn even more. Shining violet eyes, that familiar face drenched in fear and a desperate cry of "I love you."

 

Keith retreats to the cockpit with his mother and the wolf and Shiro is grateful. His heart feels like it's in his throat and his head is spinning. They need to talk about it, he knows. But the memory of his hand becoming a blade that he willingly, even if his will was controlled, pressed close enough to burn Keith's face makes him so sick he doesn't want to think about it. Not just that, he supposes. He doesn't fully know what to do about the way Keith looks at him now either. The gentle touches he used to understand are now question marks tattooed on his skin.

 

So, he sleeps. Hoping with time, he will sort his thoughts out. Then, they'll talk, he promises himself. It's a long trip to Earth, after all. Sure to be boring at times.

 

But it's not boring. And the anxious energy he feels won't go away as long as Keith is near. The team surviving is more important than any of their feelings, so he does the logical thing and moves to Green. "We should all have someone else on board with us.  Pidge shouldn't be alone," he reasons, when Keith's startled gaze falls on him. He doesn't mention that Hunk will still be alone (excluding the mice). Or Lance (excluding Kalternecker).

 

He pretends not to notice how gutted Keith looks by this choice. Accepts only the hallow "sure, Shiro" that he gets. 

 

And that's only the beginning.

 

They never find time to talk. Mostly because Shiro never finds time to think through what he would say when they do. Which turns into a mild bout of avoiding Keith. Nothing cruel, he thinks to himself. They're just busy. Saving Earth is harrowing. They almost lose everything. All this weirdness doesn't stop his heart from splintering into pieces when he sees the Lions fall to Earth. Sees Keith coated in blood with no guarantee that he'll ever wake up. He still spends every night that Keith is in a coma holding onto the crappy hospital chair by his bedside like it's a lifeline. But, when the doctors inform him that Keith is awake and well, he does admittedly throw himself into his new role as Captain. There's just so much to do to honor the fallen and ready the Atlas to replace the castle.

 

He doesn't consider that he never visited Keith privately while he was awake to see it. Doesn't think about how that looks. But if Keith ever tried to push against the distance Shiro is keeping between them before...he certainly isn't now.

 

And then they launch and everything goes to hell.

 

They lose so much. Allura is dead, his brain keeps screaming at him, as if he had killed her himself. As if he's the one most hurt by this. (He's not.) The weeks after the war is declared over are sorta blurry. The one person he actually remembers talking to (really talking to, not just business) is a man that worked under his command on the Atlas. Curtis is his name. Shiro could almost forget the man had been involved in the war at all. He was so _refreshing_. He laughed freely, smiled in a mischievous way that made Shiro want to go out and do something fun for once rather than sulk in his misery. Curtis flirts with him, shamelessly. They go out to dinner, to get drinks, and came back to Shiro's temporary living space to joke, cuddle and eventually to kiss. They're living together before Shiro even managed to tell the entire gang he's seeing someone.  It's fast, almost scarily so if Shiro were being logical, but he's not.  Dating Curtis gives Shiro part of his soul back. He feels human for the first time in years.  Fast doesn't matter compared to the joy of feeling like a person again.

 

He forgets all about the fact that he goes weeks without seeing or hearing from Keith. But, when the group gets together for a dinner and he can look Keith in the eye without any guilt or anxiety for the first time since he was resurrected, he counts it as a win. There's still a tension in the air when they speak privately late one night. Keith looks tired, but not miserable. His eyes still hold that same level of soft affection in them. But his face doesn't. That disarming, loving expression is absent. At the time, Shiro revels in it. It's normal, he thinks. They're going back to normal.

 

Which is why he asks Keith to be his best man when Curtis surprises the shit out of him by proposing on their two year anniversary. It's sudden. And Shiro is pretty overwhelmed. But it's so good compared the the last time his chest turned itself into knots this way. Keith doesn't agree right away. Says he needs to arrange his schedule before he can make promises. It's a bizarre thing coming from Keith, who once abandoned a final exam to help him move out of the apartment he once shared with Adam before Kerberos. But he understands. Keith's future as the leader of the blades had blossomed in ways no one imagined it could. Shiro was so proud that the Galra had even asked him to rule them, despite Keith's obvious decision not to accept. If Keith said he was busy, he was busy.

 

He honestly thought Curtis had forgotten his keys when he heard the knock at the door. But there was Keith, who had never looked more torn before. Shiro didn't even invite him in, so caught up in trying to interpret his expression. They stood in the doorway of Shiro's condo for a minute before Keith let out a harsh exhale.

 

"Are you happy, Shiro?" The question made him jolt. It was so simple of a question for such a complicated topic. How does one explain how anything remotely domestic feels like heaven after so long of being scared, tired and in pain? There weren't enough words that he could conjure in his brain at that moment to fully describe the emotional journey he'd been on lately. 

 

Later, it would bother him that he didn't even try. He merely smiled as wide as he could manage and whispered "yeah." It sounded weak. Too airy. Not enough conviction for his liking. Keith's violet eyes burrowed into his. He used to love how piercing Keith's stare could be. It never bothered him to have it aimed at him before. But then again, he never had anything to hide from Keith before. The ghosts of things left unsaid, undiscussed, unfinished almost made him sweat under that gaze.

 

Then, finally, Keith nodded. "Ok then. I'll do it."

 

The wedding planning was hectic, but it wasn't the sort of life crushing busyness that the last few weeks of the war was. Nothing ever will be again, and thus, nothing would ever be as stressful. Curtis didn't have any family left, just like Shiro. It was a small ceremony really, only their closed loved ones and allies present. Almost everyone they invited were thrilled to accept, desperately needing a good excuse to party and be merry under the weight of rebuilding... everything. Only two people declined the invitations: Krolia and Axca. Lance had tugged Keith into wedding planning the moment he landed on Earth, so he didn't think to bother him by asking. But Veronica, who had kept up with all three parties meticulously post-war, seemed to know something about it when he asked. Not that he got a real reason out of her. 

 

She only smiled a diplomatic kind of smile and said, "This is all just a bit sudden, I suppose. Us here on Earth can catch a flight here a couple hours before. They're busy women and are usually very far away. And with Keith here, someone needed to pick up his slack."

 

It felt like a convenient excuse, but Shiro was also at his own wedding, and his newly wedded husband simply wouldn't stand for "angsting away in the corner". It wasn't hard to allow Curtis to draw his thoughts away from that conversation. Sam told him later he'd never seen Shiro so thoroughly wrapped up in someone before. Shiro joked that Sam didn't remember his and Adam's honeymoon phase.  Overall, it was an amazing day. Definitely one of the best he had ever had. It barely even disappointed him when he woke nestled in Curtis's arms to a message from Keith saying he had left right after excusing himself from the reception. He got a package in the mail with a beautiful bouquet, his favorite chocolates, and a hand written card wishes Shiro the best in his new life.

 

It felt like a goodbye.

 

And it was. It didn't bother him really that he didn't hear from Keith aside from basic updates until Allura's yearly memorial. Half a year was a long time to only get single sentence responses, but that wasn't completely unreasonable. He was busy and it wasn't like he wasn't answering at all. But to hear that Keith would be skipping the memorial from Lance of all people? That hurt. Even more so hearing Hunk talk about the amazing project he and Keith had been working on to give a planet better agriculture and infrastructure. And hearing Pidge laugh about Matt and Keith's drunken antics over Keith's most recent birthday. Romelle, Coran, even James Griffin had either called or seen Keith in the last month. But not Shiro. Keith had done amazing things, had had a  **boyfriend**  in the radio silence of late. And Shiro didn't know any of it. If the others picked up on his mounting frustration over this fact, they remained silent about it.  That hurt, too.

 

He let himself be mad. He let himself blame Keith for the way things were. It wasn't as if Shiro wasn't trying. He sent the first message every single time. No, he never called, because he never knew what Keith was doing.  What if he was calling at a bad time? Everything had been fine up until then. What had changed? Shiro deleted Keith's messenger frequency from his pad.  Trashed the entire contact, even. Curtis thought he was being too rash, but Shiro didn't care. If Keith wanted to get a hold of him, he knew how. And if he never did anything on his own, fine. Shiro knew when he wasn't wanted.

 

That was their first big fight, he and Curtis. Shiro was all poisonous words and cold, aching betrayal for days after that. And Curtis only ever tried to get him to see things from Keith's point of view. He had actually screamed at him once. Told his husband that he didn't know Keith like Shiro did, how could he know what Keith was thinking? He apologized after an hour, spent the next four making up for it between their sheets. It was only the first of many fights.

 

They started small. Curtis was kind of a clean freak. He was sensitive to strong smells and if the dishes didn't get done right after dinner, it bothered him. He snapped at Shiro about it once, after he had made a traditional Japanese dish he had wanted to make for Curtis for weeks. It had come off as ungrateful to Shiro, whose response was to leave dishes around more often in passive aggressive spite. Curtis responded by slamming doors, which set off Shiro's ever present PTSD. After one such instance triggered an actual panic attack in Shiro, they held each other tightly on the couch and apologized for being petty. 

 

You could only apologize to someone so much before it felt fake, though. The honeymoon phase ended as drastically as it began. And suddenly every small annoyance would ring in Shiro's head for days. It was driving him insane. Colleen told him he should start seeing someone. A therapist, maybe. He shook her off. "I'd never tell a stranger anything too important. I just don't function that way, Col."

 

"Then try a friend."

 

The issue was that while he had seen the ex-paladins and Coran on a decently frequent basis, none of them had that sort of relationship with Shiro. He had always been the older and wiser senior officer. The more experienced fighter, pilot, leader. There was an implicit distance there that relationship problems didn't cross well. The first person he called was Matt, who sent him a frequency file and fixed him with a long stare.

 

"Stop pretending you want to be talking to anyone other than Keith about this. He's your best friend, Shiro. And you guys have played your prideful game of chicken for an annoyingly long time now."

 

"He doesn't want to talk to me, Matt. He would have called if he actually cared."

 

Matt sighed. "Don't do that. Don't warp his character in your head that way. When was the last time Keith ran from something before this?" He paused, let Shiro's silence be his answer. "The Garrison, Shiro. After they told the world we died on Kerberos. He doesn't run when he doesn't care. He runs when he cares too much. Stop pretending you don't know that better than anyone else in the damn universe."

 

No matter how right Matt was, that didn't mean Shiro knew how to deal with it. What to say. He didn't even know what Keith was running from in the first place...

 

No. He squeezed his eyes shut one night, pad with the frequency all typed in on his desk and head in his hands. He did know. He had always known. He just...still didn't know what to do about it. Maybe he would just spend some time thinking about it. Formulate a plan of attack...

 

When he lowered his hands, they brushed the call button and the dull trill of the dial tone scared Shiro out of his skin. His heart sped into a panic. Shit. It was already hailing the frequency. If he hung up now, a notification that he called would still appear. Maybe he could say he hit the wrong contact? That he wanted to reach Katie instead? But it was so late. If he was calling Katie at that hour it almost had to be an emergency. And Keith would...

 

The line clicked, call having been accepted. But no voice came through. Shiro sat there a minute, waiting. He could hear breathing on the other side. Quiet, but noticeable. Not an accident then. Swallowing, Shiro whispered, "Keith?"

 

He was half convinced he wouldn't say anything. That this conversation would be symbolic of the past year of his life. Just him, and the tattered remains of the most important friendship he had ever had in his life, waiting for some sort of a sign that he wasn't waiting for nothing.

 

Then, like a miracle, he heard it. A deep breath to steady himself, which was so Keith of him, and "Yeah, Shiro. I'm here."

 

It was nothing in the grand scheme of things. Four words after months of nothing should have felt insignificant. But it was enough to hit Shiro in the chest like a truck. God, he had missed that voice.  He hadn't truly appreciated the aching gap in his heart Keith left until now. "I'm sorry." That wasn't exactly what he wanted to say. But it wasn't untrue. "I'm so sorry," he repeated, voice trembling.

 

"Yeah," Keith rasped, sounding just as distraught. "Me too. I'm sorry too."

 

A path of hot tears ran down his face, and he slouched forward to bury his face in his arms, sobbing openly and without care. There just wasn't anything left to hide. He was hurt. But he had been the one to start this game of keep away with their friendship on the line. And that hurt even more. He heard a whimper from the pad at the sound of that first sob. And as he cried himself out, he hear the soft sounds telling him that Keith was probably crying too. It felt vaguely ridiculous. A grown man of thirty one years, calling someone to cry but not say anything. But it was what he needed.  He needed his best friend again.  He needed Keith. He fell asleep like that, call still active, cheeks still sticky with dried tears. His back and neck were killing him when he did finally wake, and the call had been ended after six or so hours. But there was a message on his holopad, sent by a frequency he didn't have saved anymore.

 

**We should talk. Like actually talk. I'm still not great over calls. Send me a place and give me like a week tops. I'll be there.**

 

He stared at that message without responding for ten full minutes, smiling stupidly to himself. This was a different kind of happiness.  Tinged with nostalgia and fondness that spanned across universes. No, their problems weren't fixed yet.  And actually fixing them would be a rough and emotionally draining experience.  He needed to do it though.  Keith hadn't been the only one running.  And he thought, as he set about starting his day, that maybe Keith just wanted some sign that Shiro would stop running before he was willing to try to work this out.  Shiro sent a reply with the address to an old diner he loved to go to, feeling resolute.  Nothing was worth losing Keith over, especially not his stupid pride.  He was gonna get his best friend back.

 

The rest of his many issues could wait just awhile longer.


	2. Black Sheep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Keith had always been a wild thing. The snarling, fierce wolf whose intimidating growl hid the bloodied paw cradled to his chest. Keith was coming into this conversation holding most of the cards. If he chose to lay them down and walk out, Shiro would never find him again unless Keith specifically wanted him to. But, playing it safe here wouldn't get him anywhere. He had to be willing to risk it or he would have already lost."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title is from the song Black Sheep by Metric (as seen in Scott Pilgrim VS The World)

The morning of his meeting with Keith is spent in frantic cleaning of every surface in their kitchen.  It's been the newest coping mechanism Shiro developed in light of his new much less active lifestyle.  There had been phases.  He had stopped working for the Garrison shortly before the wedding under the excuse that wedding planning was a beast.  Which wasn't a lie.  The honeymoon and ensuing post honeymoon horniness had ruined any hope Shiro had at maintaining his gym routine.  While Curtis had gotten a new job as an engineer manning one of the biggest reconstruction companies on Earth, Shiro had taken the time to enjoy the ability to do literally nothing all day.  It was a weird adjustment, but one he thoroughly enjoyed, at least for a few months.  When he got too stir crazy, he would either hit up the treadmill in their spare bedroom or clean.  The cleaning thing stuck surprisingly well.  And not just because of Curtis's strong smell sensitivity.  It was mindless, but also felt productive.  Nights after his particularly bad nightmares were spent from then on disinfecting any part of that house that wouldn't wake up Curtis.  It was much rarer during the daylight hours unless there was specifically something to clean.

 

Which is why Curtis must have known immediately when he walked into the kitchen that something was wrong.

 

"Tak," he drawled, running a hand down his side.  "What's this?"

 

"Spring cleaning," he grunted, waging an all out war against an oil spill on the stove top.

 

Curtis chuckled.  "And I'm the Queen of England.  No really, Tak, what's up?"

 

Sighing, Shiro shook his head, "I just have a lot on my mind.  Nothing to worry yourself over."

 

"Can I offer you a distraction then?  Maybe go see the re-re-reboot of Planet of the Apes or something?"

 

"If you make me watch that fake science crap with my own two eyes I will kill you," Shiro grumbled, much to Curtis's glee.  "No, I actually..." Shiro abandoned his mission of purifying the stove, to turn and face his husband.  "I'm meeting up with an old friend today, actually."

 

"Is that why you're so strung up?"  Shiro nodded.  "Who is it?"

 

"Keith."

 

Curtis's eyes flew open, a grin forming on his face instantly.  "Keith Kogane?  That's awesome.  I didn't even know you guys were still talking." Because they hadn't been.  Because the only reason Shiro got his head out of his butt was because their marriage was stressing Shiro out. Which Curtis probably didn't know either.  Geez.  "That's great, though, Takashi.  Really.  I know how much he means to you."

 

That, Shiro didn't quite believe.  "Yeah?"

 

"Of course," Curtis nodded.  "I didn't even know you before the war and I knew you two had a long history.  And the stories the other paladins told seemed to imply you guys went through a lot together.  It would be a damn shame to lose a friendship like that."

 

Yes, Shiro thought, nodding idly.  It really would.  Over the past week, Shiro had logged a ridiculous amount of time just soul searching regarding the situation with him and Keith.  It has been frustratingly unfruitful.  So much of what Shiro was worried about couldn't be addressed without knowing Keith's side of the story.  Things like what he was thinking over the time they weren't talking.  But, also scarier things like "you're my brother" and "I love you."  Shiro had gone down the rabbit hole of his own feelings with regards to Keith in  _that_  way.  It was hard to get anywhere with it when the voice in his head kept screaming that a happily married man had no business considering whether he had ever loved his ex-best friend.  But how could he explain why he started avoiding Keith without bringing that up?  It was making him sick just thinking about it.

 

"Curtis?"

 

"Hmm?"

 

"I hurt him.  And I don't know how to fix it."

 

Curtis jolted a bit, spilling his coffee with a curse.  As he grabbed a rag to mop up his spill, he hedged cautiously, "Is this the sort of thing an apology won't work with?"

 

"I...don't think so."

 

His partner hummed, keeping his hands busy.  Just one of his many quirks when having tough conversations.  "Well, I don't know Keith very well.  But, from what I can tell, the man values honesty and loyalty above everything else."  That was the most simplistic and true assessment of Keith ever, Shiro thought, wryly.  "So I would just tell him you're sorry and tell him your side of the story."

 

"What if I don't have a reason, though?  What if I dragged this entire thing out for no damn reason?"

 

Curtis eyed him for a minute, then shrugged.  "Then you're lying, probably."  Shiro sputtered, not sure if he should be offended or not.  "You don't do things mindlessly.  Especially not to people you love.  Is it honestly that you don't have a reason, or is it just not a good one?"

 

Shiro's silence was enough of an answer.

 

"Just go face him head on, Takashi.  Maybe it doesn't work out.  But it's not like things can get any worse.  And I'm positive you'll regret not seeing him much more than knowing you tried."

 

He was right.  He had to at least try.  He owed Keith and himself that much.  Cracking a smile for the first time that morning, Shiro planted a grateful kiss to Curtis's lips.  "Thank you.  I'll go get ready.  What are your plans for this evening then?"

 

"Well, I was going to subject my worrywart husband to shitty movies," he teased, "but I guess if you're off doing best friend things, I might as well go see Mycah."

 

Mycah was Curtis's childhood friend.  They had one of those friendships where 80% of their conversations were inside jokes.  Mycah use to work with Curtis, but ended up finding his calling elsewhere right before the wedding. But, if Shiro and Keith had grown apart when Shiro married Curtis, Curtis and Mycah had only grown closer.  Shiro had always suspected there was an aborted relationship attempt in their past somewhere, but he couldn't hold it again Curtis.  Mycah was too nice to be jealous of.

 

Curtis offered to drive Shiro to the diner, but Shiro kindly declined.  It was selfish of him, but he wanted to know he had an exit strategy.  It felt stupid to be this scared of seeing Keith.  Anyone who knew them would have wondered what Shiro had to be frightened of.  It was only Keith.  But, that was just it.  Staring at the diner from his car, Shiro acknowledged that it being Keith was exactly why it was so terrifying.  Keith wore some emotions on his sleeve, that was true.  And Shiro knew him better than almost anyone.  But, Keith had always been a wild thing. The snarling, fierce wolf whose intimidating growl hid the bloodied paw cradled to his chest.  Keith was coming into this conversation holding most of the cards.  If he chose to lay them down and walk out, Shiro would never find him again unless Keith specifically wanted him to.

 

But, Curtis had been absolutely right in at least one respect.  Playing it safe here wouldn't get him anywhere.  He had to be willing to risk it or he would have already lost.  Shiro knew, as he walked in the door to the diner, that meant tearing open every wound he had and putting the choice to salvage or abandon in Keith's hands.  Because Keith sure as hell wasn't going to start opening wounds before he did.

 

It was all too typical of Keith to have picked the most secluded booth in the damn diner.  But, there he was.  In the corner, nearly hidden behind a jukebox that looked like it was more for decoration than function.  His hair had gotten longer, held in a low ponytail that curled along his shoulder and fell just above his breast.  It looked very Keith though, especially paired with a leather jacket that reminded him so much of the one he used to have back in the day.

 

Shiro slid into the seat across from his oldest friend feeling like he was watching his own life from a television somewhere.  It felt so detached from reality.  The face that turned to look at him was so different and yet exactly the same.  It wasn't that he looked older, it hadn't been that long.  It was his expression.  Guarded, impassive, hesitant.  It wasn't something Shiro was used to having directed at him.  But it also meant Keith thought he had to be on the defense, that he was taking a risk being here. Which meant he did care.  More than he probably wanted to. Shiro swallowed, steeling himself.

 

"I fucked up."  It wasn't elegant, but it was simplest version of the truth.  Elegant really wasn't Keith's thing anyway.  "I didn't know how to deal with things, when I first came back in this body.  That included things with you.  I thought I needed time and distance.  But, the war gave me neither.  I didn't mean for it to get that bad.  I really didn't.  But, I also didn't actively try to stop it, either.  And I was hurt too.  I think that's why it took me so long to try to do anything about this.  I didn't feel like you wanted to keep in touch with me anymore."  Keith doesn't respond, eyes never wavering from his own.  Shiro shakes his head.  "That's not an excuse.  Just how I felt.  Feel."

 

For awhile, they just stared at each other.  So long that the waitress eventually came along for their order.  Keith doesn't give her more than a brief glance, raising an eyebrow at Shiro.  Oh.  A test, then.  Too easy, Shiro thinks, smiling a bit to himself.  "I'll have a plate of buttermilk pancakes and a water with lemon.  My friend will have a double cheese burger, the bloodier the better.  And a side of Cajun fries with a coke, out of a bottle if you have one."  The young woman nodded and wandered off with the promise of returning with the drinks soon.  Keith had always ordered the exact same order with the exact same requests for as long as they'd be in the Garrison together.  No matter how long they spent in space with no access to Earth food, Shiro would never forget their long nights together at the 24 hour diner a few miles down their hoverbike path.  From the small smile Keith was trying to fight down, knowing Shiro hadn't forgotten that pleased him.

 

Pleased enough to finally speak, in fact.  "What things involving me were there to even deal with?"

 

A complicated question.  Already in very dangerous territory.  Shiro sighed.  "The clone...he thought of things differently than I did."  Keith's eyes narrowed.  "It's really hard to explain.  He wasn't exactly me.  He was a person with my memories, but he interpreted them however best made sense to him.  Waking up, it was hard to differentiate what thoughts were mine and what were remnants of his."

 

"Did his thoughts suddenly give you the impression I had a contagious, deadly disease?  Because that's what it felt like."  Keith's tone was steely.  His eyes had a sharp glint to them.

 

Shiro met that steel with some of his own.  "He put a blade to your damn neck, Keith.  The evidence is literally on your face in you haven't looked in a mirror in a few years."

 

Keith's eyebrows arched up a bit.  His voice was disbelieving, "You avoided me for _five years..._ because of my  _scar_?  Really?"

 

His response was more of a hiss than a sentence.  "It's a bit troubling to have memories of actively wanting to murder your best friend."

 

"I cut your arm off Shiro.  You think I don't remember your scream?  That I didn't dream of it for months?"

 

"You  _saved_  me," he stresses, frazzled.  The look on his face was probably awful.  Full of pain, too many emotions too fast.

 

"And you repaid me by breaking your promise," Keith reminded him, expression equally tortured.  As if it physically hurt him to say it.  It probably did.

 

Shiro wanted to deny it.  Scream and cry that he would  _never_  abandon Keith.  But it wouldn't be completely true.  As much as he hated to admit it, he had never been fully unaware of anything amiss in their relationship.  If he had really wanted to, he could have avoided this whole mess.  It was just easier to let it stew.  So he nodded, eyes on the table.  "I...didn't mean to.  It wasn't intentional."  His excuse was pathetic, but it was true.  He wouldn't intentionally hurt Keith.

 

"That hurt more than the scar ever did, Shiro."

 

Fuck.  "I know, Keith."  And he did.  "I'm sorry."  And he was.

 

In the ensuing silence, the waitress brings their drinks.  It was a welcome distraction.  Shiro picked at the straw, tied the wrapping into knots, waiting for...anything.  It was all that Shiro could have hoped for that Keith hadn't left yet.  In a way, he was sort of waiting for it.

 

Finally, a long, frustrated sigh broke their stalemate.  "I wasn't going to show up to the wedding," he admitted.  Shiro blinked, not expecting that to be where they started back up.  "It wasn't like you were the only one moving on.  It just felt so...unlike you.  Falling in love with someone you had only known for a year.  Deciding to get married and have a quiet domestic little life with a white picket fence and a dog."  He lived in a three bedroom condo in a neighborhood that was barely middle class and Keith was the one with a dog.  He didn't bother to correct him, though.  "You gave up being Captain of the Atlas almost as soon as you got it.  I..."  Keith shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest.  "I felt like I didn't even know you anymore.  And maybe I didn't.  It's not like we talked anymore.  About anything."

 

Shiro nodded.  "Is...that why your mother and Axca didn't show?"

 

Keith huffed out a small laugh, not one of mirth though.  "Trust me, you didn't want them there anyway.  They didn't have anything suitable for a wedding to say to you."

 

"That makes sense.  They're both very protective of you."

 

Keith only shrugged, popping he top off his coke bottle with his thumb (which was vaguely impressive as far as Shiro was concerned) and taking a long swig.  "Why did you call?"

 

And that brought them back to the present.  What a question to start with.  "Matt got sick of my bullshit," he said, but it's not truthful enough.  "It was an accident though.  My hand slipped.  I probably would have spent at least another week trying to convince myself you wanted nothing to do with me otherwise."

 

"So what," Keith sniffed, looking vaguely wary, "this whole conversation is just a whim?"

 

Shiro shook his head, knowing very well that this would be the part where Keith fled if he was going to.  "The call was a coincidence, but I'm glad it happened.  I...well, you heard how I reacted to just hearing your voice again." His face burned a bit, but it was worth it.  Keith's eyes had softened, only a bit, but enough.  "I really didn't realize how much it had been bothering me.  Not talking to you. I had just been so tense and keyed up for months.  Then, I heard you answer and I just..." He trailed off, blinking away a bit of moisture in his eyes.  Shiro swallowed harshly, and croaked, "I  _really_  missed you, Keith."

 

In any other situation, Shiro might have found the parade of emotions that projected along Keith's face funny.  Most people can't manage to look angry, happy and like they're about to cry at the same time.  But whatever Keith's face was doing, it was managing to be all three.  "You... _idiot_ ," Keith hissed, nose scrunching up adorably.  Shiro can't help but smile at it.  "Don't say shit like that when it's your fault in the first place!"  His voice was louder, but Shiro found a strange amount of solace in that.  If Keith's yelling, then he isn't actually mad.  At least, not the same type of mad.  This mad, Shiro would gladly deal with.

 

"Tell me how I can fix it, then," Shiro suggested, trying his best to hide how amused he was with the situation.  It was such a relief to be back to this.

 

Before Keith could come up with a satisfactory answer, their food arrived.  Which meant there was a snowball's chance in hell of getting a decent response out of Keith until he had properly destroyed his meal.  That felt familiar too.  Keith was a leader in one of the most well known organized groups in space, had years of relative safety and eating his mom's cooking (which Hunk assured him was fantastic, though, much to Shiro's grievance, he had never had the pleasure), but he still scarfed down his food like the scrappy kid Shiro first met.

 

When he finally came up for air, done with the burger, but definitely not with the fries, Keith fixed Shiro with a conflicted look.  "I don't know how to fix it.  If I knew how to make myself stop feeling like crap I would have been much less obnoxious as a kid."  Shiro snorted.  Keith glared in response, but there was no heat in it.  "Just...talk to me.  I want...to know we can still do that, at least."

 

That, Shiro could agree with.  So he talked.  He told Keith everything there was to know about his boring little life.  How he and Curtis got together, what books he had been reading, how much he hated their neighbor's stupid loud-mouth chihuahua.  Keith wasn't a totally passive party.  He asked follow up questions, gave Shiro judgmental stares when he deserved it, even laughed a couple times.  By the time Keith had mostly finished his meal, and they had politely declined the waitress's offer of dessert, Shiro felt it was time to flip things back to Keith's side of things.

 

"You know, I think what bothered me the most about us not talking was feeling like I was missing out on your life developments. They sounded pretty awesome. Like," Shiro's smile grew teasing. "Pidge told me there was a boy."

 

Keith's arched eyebrow told him just how unimpressed he was with that statement. "I had a partner," he agreed. "Who happened to be male. And older than you." Keith gave him his own smirk at that last addition. Shiro hoped the sudden heat in his cheeks wasn't visible.

 

"Ah. That's your type huh? Was he also a blade?"

 

Keith shook his head. "No. That would feel weird to me. And mom would probably fist fight any blade hoping to ask me out before I even knew about it."

 

The frank manner he said it in tickled something in Shiro. He probably should have felt some level of shame at how loud the belly laugh he let out was, but the mental image of Krolia drop kicking the poor thirsty men of the blades of Marmora was too much to handle. Shiro faked wiping a tear from his eye, grinning widely. "That I would pay to see." Keith rolled his eyes in response, but he could tell it was fond. His arms were still crossed over his chest, but his postured had relaxed a lot. Good, Shiro thought. They were making progress. "So if he wasn't from work, who was he?"

 

"Why are you so interested in my love life all of the sudden?" His tone was more curious than it was sharp.

 

Shiro shrugged, picking at the remaining fries on his plate almost shyly. "You never were interested in people at the Garrison. And there wasn't exactly time to date when we were paladins." He leaves out the _then I died_  part on purpose. "I never got to gossip about boys with you. I didn't even know you liked anyone that way, let alone guys! Can you blame me for wanting to know about the guy you're dating?"

 

He gets Keith's point. Shiro is already in his thirties, Keith is about to hit that mark soon enough. The time for being hopelessly infatuated and having crushes feels like it should be over. But, he thinks, remembering his early days with Curtis, that's not quite true. It's perhaps the most comforting thing he'd gained from his marriage so far was to know that the war didn't take away his ability to love someone. He still enjoyed the games of wondering if it was too soon to call after a first date, blushing over nothing, and trying to have as much sex as possible in the weirdest places without getting caught. Glancing back up at Keith, Shiro acknowledged that maybe he had always known it was still possible for him to look at a person and see stars. Keith's stars just had a different feel to them.

 

"Dated."

 

Shiro was pulled out of his musings. "Huh?"

 

Keith's face remained neutral. "Dated. Past tense."

 

"Why?" Shiro winced over how harsh that question had come out. No one had told him about that though.

 

Keith shrugged. "Why does any couple break up, Shiro? We just... didn't work out long term."

 

Yes, he thinks, remembering Adam. That certainly was true. And so morbidly depressing.

 

His thoughts must have shown on his face because Keith felt the need to elaborate. "His name is Bryn. I actually met him while shopping. He ran a general store. Super boring. But he offered to help our campaign to get food and water to the war torn parts of the planet. Had never flown before so I took him on a couple joyrides. He said I could stay at his place if I wanted while we finished up our work there." Keith's eyes met his, mouth quirking. "So I stayed the night."

 

His tone left no doubt that the sexual innuendo in Shiro's mind was well founded. Shiro nodded awkwardly, cracking a joke to dispel the weird feeling he got from associating Keith with sex. "And you guys broke up because his general store was a bit too boring for you?"

 

"Actually, yeah." Shiro blinked. Keith huffed out a laugh, continuing. "It's not rocket science, Shiro. I wanted to spend my life exploring the stars and repairing the damage done by the empire, he wanted to do his mother's old store proud. We had common interests, sure, but that only gets you so far. And besides," Keith met his eyes, tone dampening a bit, "he never had to fight every day of his life in an intergalactic war for peace for years. Civilians can sympathize with how we feel, but they never really get it. It's a lot to ask of someone."

 

Shiro's skin prickled. Something curled deep and unpleasant in his stomach. There was no way Keith didn't realize how that would sound. To him, a former paladin and prisoner of war married to a man who only served active duty during the later half.

 

"Your scars don't define you, Keith." His own voice sounded hoarse. Tired. "A veteran isn't all you are. Any person could learn to deal with the PTSD if they cared enough to."

 

"Sure," Keith agreed, staring at his empty Coke bottle. "Doesn't feel like even ground though. I can't see it working with anyone who isn't already on my level. Because if they have to stoop down to it, you feel like you're holding them back. And if they can't catch up to you, they're holding you back."

 

That was somehow the least surprising but most heart breaking thing Keith had ever said.  Of course Keith, the self proclaimed loner, would feel as though anyone who couldn't match him wouldn't want to stick around.  His two years with his mother in the Quantum Abyss did wonders for his self confidence but he would never shake that old habit of waiting for the people he loved to leave him.  Even he had done that to Keith, Shiro admitted to himself in frustration. When words finally did leave his mouth, his tone was soft, and a little sad, "No, Keith you can't look at it that way. It's not about trying to match each other. It's about facing tomorrow by their side. And trusting them to have your back. I've always thought that about relationships."

 

They were quiet for a bit, Shiro's eyes looking pleadingly into Keith's. Hoping that he could end that fatalistic talk. Keith's words had felt so isolating. It hurt Shiro to even think that his best friend might actually think that about other people. Or himself.

 

"Well," Keith started, "even using your logic, it was doomed on that front. I haven't felt that way about anyone in a very long time."

 

Keith didn't have to specify that Shiro himself was included in that statement for him to know.  He was aware.  It made an unfortunate amount of sense.  For as long as they'd known each other, Shiro had stood doggedly by Keith's side.  In more recent year, that relationship flipped to where Keith was the one supporting him.  And then Shiro started pulling away.  Trust was a complicated thing to Keith.  Always had been.  It was clear that talking wasn't going to immediately fix this rift.  He earned Keith's trust the first time through his actions, not his words.  He needed to show Keith he was sticking around all over again.

 

Shiro nodded, extending a hand across the table to Keith, palm up.  When the other made no move to interact with it, he murmured, "And that's my fault.  I want to make it right.  Will you let me?"

 

Keith's hand twitched, but didn't move further than where it was.  "I don't know if I can just go back to how things were before," he admits, finally meeting Shiro's gaze.

 

"I wouldn't expect you to.  But, we can move forward still.  And I promise I will never let what's going on in my life or my head dictate how I act towards you.  You're the best friend I've ever had, Keith.  That I ever will have."  Keith's breath hitched, hand clenching on the table.  "I wouldn't blame you for saying no, but I wouldn't ever forgive myself if I didn't at least try."

 

Shiro lowered his head, eyes falling shut.  Before his mind can even wander to the sorrowful place it would go if Keith rejected him here, a calloused hand slipped into his.  He gripped it fiercely on reflect, looking timidly up at the man across from him.

 

"You gave me a second chance when you knew absolutely nothing about me, Shiro.  After all we've been through, I kind of owe it to you to give you the same courtesy.  But, just..." he trailed off, sounding frustrated. "I'm not as patient as you, no matter how hard I try.  I don't think I'd be able to trust you again if this happens again.  I...don't know what I'd do."

 

A second chance.  And his last one.  He can work with that.

 

"I won't give you a reason to find out," Shiro pledged.  

 

When they parted ways that day in the diner parking lot, Shiro once again extended a hand to Keith.  It did something strange and wonderful to his chest when Keith seized that hand fiercely and drew him into their customary hug.  A hug from Keith had almost never felt that good.  They vowed to keep in touch more, calls, messages, the whole nine yards.  Keith promised to show Shiro more about his life if Shiro promised to try to work through the leftover emotions from just after waking up in the clone's body.  And actually talk to Keith about them when he did.  Shiro felt accomplished coming home that day.  Was so obviously happy with the progress they'd made that Curtis laughed into a kiss and told him that he and Keith should make up from fights more often.

 

That matter was also still unresolved, though.

 

Shiro was slightly worried that it was too soon to breach that subject with Keith.  Their friendship still felt so patchwork and tentative.  Anything that could be a sore spot felt like it was best left off until they were on steadier ground.  But, when he had offhandedly mentioned his worries about his marriage to Keith over a video call one night, when Curtis was still over at Mycah's, he was surprised by how readily Keith offered his opinion.

 

"It sounds like normal relationship stuff to me.  You see him literally every day.  People get upset with roommates too."

 

"I know, but it feels so suffocating.  I don't want to have to make up with my husband on a weekly basis, Keith."

 

Keith nodded, spinning a pencil across his knuckles.  "I mean, it's not like you have anything to take your mind off of things, though.  You're probably just thinking about it too much."

 

That was...plausible actually.  He did have a tendency to work himself up over things if left alone with his own thoughts.  And in his current life, he had nothing but time to think.  "What do you think I should do then?"

 

That earned him an eye roll and a half smirk. "What do  _you_  think?"

 

It's a familiar phrase.  Shiro used to use it on Keith all the time, whenever he thought Keith needed to come up with an answer on his own.  It makes him smile, only half annoyed that Keith keeps finding ways to turn Shiro's words back at him.  

 

"I'm...going to see if there are any cross-fit programs I can join.  Keep me busy during the day.  And then, I'll do my best to talk it out with Curtis."

 

Keith smiled at him, a large sincere smile that lights up his face.  A smile Shiro sorely missed and was endlessly grateful to be able to see again.  "Sounds reasonable to me."

 

It goes much better than Shiro expected it to.  It must have been some combination of having a productive way to occupy himself, feeling like he was getting his old level of fitness back, and having his ultimate grounding force, Keith, back in his life.  The other paladins seem to get the memo that he and Keith are on the mends because Katie appears out of the ether to whisk him away to her parent's place only a week after the diner conversation.  He feels balanced.  His marriage flourishing again, a smile on his face more often than not, and he has a specific time carved out for a video call with Keith most evenings.  Sometimes the others join in, which feels more like coming home than he remembers. For awhile, things are good.  So good Shiro almost forgets there was ever anything wrong in the first place.

 

Life was rarely so kind to someone like Shiro for too long, though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter: The beginning of the end of Curtis/Shiro.


	3. Something Just Like This

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "It doesn't feel like a world shattered decision point. The ceiling light is off in his office, the whole room only illuminated in the soft blue tones from the screen. Shiro's cocooned himself in the extremely soft blanket Romelle sent him last Christmas and his mouth tastes like his favorite cocoa with just a little bit of peppermint extract mixed in. Keith, in his own too large, too empty home on Diabazaal, looks terribly domestic as he tries to wrangle his hair into something presentable. It's comfortable. It's home. And yet, it changes something when Shiro finally produces the words necessary to say, "I've been thinking about the work you do with the Blades recently.""

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, I just wanted to let y'all know that I REALLY appreciate the comments you guys have been leaving. I'm sick as a dog, finals suck, I'm tired all the time, but every new comment I get makes me reopen my Word doc and keep trucking along. You guys are the best and I'm glad you're all enjoying this.
> 
>  
> 
> Song is Something Just Like This from the Chainsmokers. Enjoy!

 

The best and worst thing about being friends with Keith again was how surprisingly willing Keith was to talk with him.  Nightly calls only worked when Keith knew the time conversation between where he was and Earth.  Daibazaal was easy.  Similar day lengths ensured that if Keith called him right after breakfast, Shiro would surely be cozy in his nice desk chair, just having finished dinner and wished Curtis goodnight.  Missions were harder.  They rarely spoke at all when the Blades were in transit, and each planet, moon, and system had different time considerations.  So, Keith would instead send messages.  At first, they were his normal single sentence check-ins.  Every conversation felt fragile at that stage.  But, after a particularly engaging conversation (or argument) where Shiro swore up and down there was no way Keith had found cherry blossom trees in space, Keith had proven him wrong with the first of many pictures saved in an album lovingly named "Keith's Epic Space Adventures."

 

Not all the entries in the folder were images.  Some were videos, which Shiro always loved receiving because it usually meant someone else had taken the video.  Because Keith rarely thought to capture things as they happened.  He had always been and would always be a "live in the moment" person.  This also meant that Keith was usually in those videos, which was Shiro's absolute favorite part.  Krolia had shot the first one for practical reasons.  It was a self defense class for the citizens of a slum in Kuloa, a planet ravaged by gang warfare after the Empire's absence left a power vacuum behind in their wake.  Unfortunately, it was a frequent trend, Keith reported while Shiro watched the video.  It was the first time Shiro had gotten to see with his own eyes what it was Keith did though.  It was more than impressive.  The Blades had only been on that planet for maybe an Earth day before that video was recorded and yet every man, woman, and child gazed upon Keith with such tangible respect and admiration.  Keith wasn't just helping the people he met on his missions by providing them with supplies and services.  He was giving them hope.  The Blades under Keith's watchful eye had become a symbol of peace and safety for the needy.  Shiro had never been more proud to be Keith's friend.  

Thus, began Shiro's collection of snapshots from the various adventures and misadventures Keith became involved in.  He wasn't sure Keith even knew he was collecting them.  Curtis sometimes popped his head in to see the highlights from Keith's week.  But, Shiro knew it was mostly demonstrative.  It had become a point of mild tension between them lately.  The best parts of Shiro's days had become hearing from Keith and any of the other ex-paladins who found the time to answer his messages in their busy days.  When Shiro told Lance how much he enjoyed getting to see Keith's experiences, Lance had wasted no time sharing his own as well.  Katie and Hunk did so less often, but no less happily.  And Coran of course had millions of stories to tell any day of the week.  So, when Curtis would come home and ask him how his day had gone, the natural response to Shiro was to tell him what his friends were up to.  It wasn't that his husband was uninterested.  He always nodded along and made little hums at appropriate moments.  They felt empty though.  Probably because Curtis had no real connection to any of them.  Most of the Atlas crew had treated the paladins like ships in the night, passing by them with a wave and gratitude for their service, but not really knowing them.  Team Voltron had been his family during the most difficult part of his life, though, so it stung that his stories never elicited that same level of excitement in his husband.

Hearing about Keith's work had another somewhat predictable side effect.  It made Shiro endlessly jealous.  Keith's time exploring the universe was for a charitable cause, of course, but he still got to experience every world and its culture.  Shiro could still remember the nights he spent staring through the glass roof of his childhood home at the stars, wondering what amazing places were waiting up there to be discovered.  His actual trip through the galaxy had left him battle scarred and frightened.  But in the post-Empire universe, while danger did still exist, getting to explore the stars the way Shiro had always wanted to wasn't impossible anymore.  Oddly enough, until recently, Shiro hadn't even considered that to be a possibility.

 

One night, he found himself sitting in his usual spot, drinking a mug of hot cocoa and watching Keith’s lips curl around an adventure he and Ezor had on a trading moon involving ninjas and a kidnapped bird.  And it’s  _ridiculous_.  Keith has a new scar on his chin not from a narrow dodge of a ninja star (which are magnetic boomerangs when they’re thrown by these metal manipulating aliens apparently, which is frightening and so cool Shiro can’t stand it), or from even fighting that bird, which turned out to be three times the size they were told.  No, instead, the mark was, in Keith’s loving words, “all because Ezor’s fat ass knocked me off a cliff.”

Which Shiro found hilarious.  Keith?  Not so much.

“Sounds like there’s never a dull moment at least?” Shiro chuckles.  “I could use a little of that.”

“Pft. You? Getting bored of being a housewife?  _No_.”

Shiro’s groan is guttural and well felt.  It makes Keith laugh on the other end of the screen.  “I really wish I could tell you how wrong you are, but I really do feel like a housewife some days.  This is more idle time than I’ve ever had in my whole life, Keith.  That includes being a baby.”

Keith snorts, giving Shiro a fond and sympathetic look from under his wet hair, which he was currently attempting to braid.  A new bonding activity Ezor and Acxa insisted on, evidently.  Shiro makes no attempt to identify the feeling stirring in his gut as he follows the water droplets down Keith's neck.  Keith's voice snaps him out of his small daze anyway.

"I thought you said the gym was helping."

"It was.  It makes me feel like my old self in a way, I guess.  But it's not something people do all day long."

"Why the hell not? It's called getting the most out of your gym membership," Keith teases.  Looking sufficiently frustrated with his sub par braiding skills, he abandons his project and shakes out his hair.  "Like I said, I'm not surprised you're stir crazy.  I would go quiznaking bonkers if I were in your shoes.  Standing still never really seemed to be your style."

Shiro huffs, fiddling petulantly with his mug.  "It was nice for awhile.  I think I needed that time to just...breath."

"Who says you can't start something new now that you're rested, though?"

It sounds really obvious when Keith puts it that way.  "Well, no one, I guess."

"Not even Curtis?"

"God no," Shiro scoffs, "he would probably be relieved to not have me skulking around the house all night like a zombie for once."  

"Then let's figure out something you can do.  There has to be something that's caught your eye."

It doesn't feel like a world shattered decision point.  The ceiling light is off in his office, the whole room only illuminated in the soft blue tones from the screen.  Shiro's cocooned himself in the extremely soft blanket Romelle sent him last Christmas and his mouth tastes like his favorite cocoa with just a little bit of peppermint extract mixed in.  Keith, in his own too large, too empty home on Diabazaal, looks terribly domestic as he tries to wrangle his hair into something presentable.  It's comfortable.  It's home.

And yet, it changes something when Shiro finally produces the words necessary to say, "I've been thinking about the work you do with the Blades recently."  Because the shock on Keith's face morphs into an infectious excitement Shiro's only used to seeing after the word "hoverbike" has been uttered.  It spreads through Shiro's chest just as quickly.  Keith is charmingly enthusiastic about finally getting Shiro back into space.  A conversation that would usually only last an hour before Shiro shuffled off to bed and Keith to report in for work became five hours of starry eyed planning and research.  They don't finalize anything that night, but they do have the solid beginnings of a real plan.  By the time they finally bid each other farewell and Shiro wanders to the kitchen to clean his long empty mug, Curtis is already dressed for work and making himself a pot of tea, eyeing Shiro skeptically.

Seeing his husband awake is a bit of a shock.  He winces on reflex, feeling guilty that he may have woken Curtis up.  "Oh, I'm sorry.  Was I too loud?"

Curtis averts his attention back to the the teapot.  "No, Takashi," he sounds tired, but not more so than normal.  "It's just 5 AM."

Oh.

The judgment in his expression makes Shiro feel like he got caught doing something risque, which is ridiculous.  He was a grown man with no time sensitive responsibilities.  He could stay up however late he wanted to. Still, he feels the need to defend himself and the small pocket of excitement he and Keith had been lose in until the wee hours of the morning.  "I guess Keith and I must have lost track of time.  We were planning out a trip to a planet called Eaherene.  The whole planet is made of geysers that blow a near perpetual amount of steam.  The locals apparently use it to travel.  Keith said they were due to revisit them for a check in anyway."

Curtis hums, stirring idly at his tea.  "That sounds more like a vacation that humanitarian work.  But I hope Keith has fun."

 Maybe it's the sleep deprivation kicking in.  Or the dull tone that Curtis does nothing to hide, accented by the repetitive, irritating clinking of his spoon against the porcelain cup.  Most likely, it's the fact that the ember of anticipation for something in his own future still burns brilliantly in his chest.  Looking forward to something was such a rare and sacred thing in the life that Shiro lives now, the life that he feels trapped by.  He and Keith are miles more stable and content than they were a few months ago, but there's still that distance that's so hard to close when you're light years away.  Their friendship was such an up close and personal thing before all this that every conversation spent with a screen between them feels unsatisfying in a very visceral way.  So this chance Shiro has to bridge that gap and do something he legitimately wants to do for once is something he decides to protect.

Shiro knows exactly how cold his voice sounds when he corrects, "Actually, I am going with him."  It is infinitely satisfying to bask in the silence left when Curtis's spoon pauses.

" _You're_  going on a Blade of Marmora mission?"

"Yes.  Keith will be here to pick me up this Friday."  It's not an informative statement.  It's a challenge.  A dare.  

"Oh." Curtis pauses for a moment.  Shiro holds his breath, body tensing up. But whatever he expects Curtis to do, it isn't him turning to face Shiro with a small smile on his face.  "That's a bit sudden, but I'm really happy to hear that, Tak.  It'll be good for you."  The one thing Shiro has always envied about Curtis was his ability to let one moment pass and live instantly with no hesitation in the next.  All the tension in his shoulders melts away and it's just a normal morning suddenly.  

For Curtis anyway.

For Shiro, who had been so coiled and ready for a fight, the switch is jarring.  Almost painful.  Curtis finishes his breakfast and kisses Shiro goodbye like nothing ever happened.  And Shiro?  Shiro is still waiting for the other shoe to drop.  When the door closes behind his husband, he doesn't retreat to the bedroom with the hopes of claiming the lost hours of sleep.  That would be a pointless venture.  Instead, he changes into his gym clothes and decimates a defenseless sandbag at the gym.  Then one of the coaches in hand to hand combat.  Then another sandbag.  It's ridiculous, he thinks ceaselessly.  They didn't even get in a fight.  The whole event was so minor and yet the fire and brimstone refuses to leave Shiro's chest until his left hand is bloodied and sweat soaks through his sweatpants, shirt long tossed away.  Maybe that's worse though, he thinks.  If they had actually argued, there would have been resolution.  Now, Shiro will spend the next few days wondering when, if ever, that near argument will rear its ugly head again.  Never before had Shiro cursed Curtis's mild mannerisms more.

Either way, Friday couldn't come fast enough.

His anticipation makes the week crawl along at a painfully slow pace.  On top of that, Shiro remains hypersensitive to even the most mundane of Curtis's mannerisms.  It's a PTSD thing, Shiro thinks.  Once he's identified something as threat, the anxiety will circle it like a vulture, waiting for any sign of validation of those suspicious thoughts.  Luckily, he finds nothing.  Curtis likely got the unspoken message that he made a misstep because he pulls out all the stops trying to lure Shiro into their bed Thursday night.  Wine, a fancy rotisserie chicken from that deli Shiro loves, and a pair of eager lips assaulting every part of Shiro's neck not protected by his shirt.  He might have been annoyed with Curtis, but not so much to deny his husband his obvious desire of Shiro taking him apart until morning came.

A little known fact about Shiro was that he could almost never get through sex without spacing out.  Adam used to tease him about it all the time.  Said his head was so far shoved in the stars that not even a tight ass around him could drag him back.  Back then, he wasn't wrong.  It wasn't that Shiro wasn't paying attention, per se.  He still responded to vocal commands, pleads, enjoyed all the noises his partner made.  And he still got overwhelmingly positive reviews.  But, sex was very much a physical exercise to him.  Much like running on a treadmill, a simple rhythmic activity.  Just like his time at the gym, his mind very rarely had to focus clearly on what his body was doing.  Keeping a good pace going into Curtis was effortless.  

So, his thoughts scattered, back to the place they had always belonged: the vast nothingness and everything of space.  Keith had done a significant amount of plotting without Shiro's knowledge.  Had even said so, though he refused to divulge his secret plans.  All Shiro knew was their first stop would be Daibazaal.  Partially because Earth was a long way away from their target destination, which was much closer to Daibazaal comparatively, but also to show off the progress they had made in the city.  Shiro had only been to the Galra homeland twice before. Neither of those times had been for pleasure either.  It was going to be interesting to see the Dark City, as the locals called it, from the viewpoint of a simple visitor.  

Curtis's cries grew louder, more desperate.  Shiro pulled himself back to the present long enough to wrap a hand around his husband and adjust his angle, finishing them both off with precise movements.  "Damn," Curtis laughed as he flopped back onto the pillows, breathless.  "I don't know what got into you tonight, Takashi, but that was amazing."  Shiro only smiled, getting up to get a wash cloth to clean them up a bit.  He could shower in the morning before Keith arrived. Curtis was fast asleep by the time Shiro was done.  Rest for him, however, would be much harder to attain.  Especially with Curtis cuddled up to him like he was.  Another unfortunate consequence of his PTSD was frequent nightmares.  Violent ones at that.  He had woken in a daze once on the tail end of their honeymoon, mistaking his husband for a stranger.  The guilt he felt holding an ice pack to Curtis's bruised face was too much to bare.  They made it work thus far, cuddling in the morning before work, but sleeping on opposite sides of the bed.  Sometimes, after a particularly exhausting bout of sex, Shiro could manage to fall asleep with his husband's skin pressed to his and not be overrun by his anxiety. Not even the loving embrace of post orgasm euphoria could tire his mind out enough to get more than a couple hours of sleep this night.  That was alright though.  This was different.  Shiro was excited.  It felt like being a kid on Christmas Eve.  All the magic and wonder of tomorrow danced behind his eyelids at every turn.  Part of him was worried he was getting himself too hyped up.  That he was setting himself up for disappointment.

He trusted Keith to prevent that from being the case.

Shiro had agreed to meet Keith at the airport.  It was the only place legal for Keith to land his ship.  And Shiro has to admit when first lays eyes on it, it definitely looks like a ship Keith would pilot.

"Don't you dare laugh," Keith threatens, a smile already on his face.  "Cherry Bomb was red before I even bought her."

"Cherry Bomb?" he laughs.  "That feels like a better nickname for you than the ship, Keith."

Keith snorts.  "Whatever.  You ready or what?"

She's certainly an impressive ship, despite the name and paint job.  A lithe frame, built for speed and maneuverability more than carrying room.  There are only two seats built into her, but the cargo hold could still fit a couple of cars in it.  Definitely a ship meant for Keith's personal use only.  Climbing into the co-pilot's seat is an experience.  The last ship he himself had actually flown was Black and that way...a damn long time ago.  They sit on the tarmac for a bit, waiting for the green light to take off.  Keith's hand brushes his where its caught the armrest in a death lock.

"You scared of the flying or being back out there?"

"Both," he whispers.

"You don't have to do this," Keith urges.  "I can drop you right back off and we can spend the weekend here on Earth instead if you want."

The sweetest part isn't that Keith is giving an out, though that is kind of him.  It's that he's making it clear that staying or going both involve Keith staying right where he is.  He's not going anywhere no matter what Shiro chooses.

It gives him the courage he needs to push forward.  "No.  I want to do this.  I want to get back out there."

His first thought after liftoff is that Cherry Bomb can fucking  _move_.  Shiro half wishes the lions were still somewhere they could access them, if only to compare this ship's speed to them.  They reach Kerberos in two and a half minutes.  Keith opens a small wormhole just outside their solar system.  The ones the general purpose ships are capable of opening can't get nearly the same distance as the Castle of Lions or a Galra battle cruiser, but it makes the difference between a two week trip and a single day trip.

Keith glances his way after they exit the wormhole, taking stock of his passenger's condition.  Shiro meets that look with a sincere smile.  "I'm good Keith," he promises.  And it's not just to placate his friend.  Shiro loses himself so easily in the passing stars, which look so much closer than they ever did when he piloted the Garrison's ships.  It's not just familiar, it's therapeutic.  This was the position Shiro would have sacrificed anything to be in ten years ago.  It was a sweet bit of relief that space still had the ability to take his breath away, after three years of avoiding it.

If Shiro thought that flying through open space was fantastic, then landing on Daibazaal was something out of a dream.

The Galra homeland had always had a particular aesthetic that no other place could emulate.  The Dark City itself was built on a sharp incline, with the commercial district and cheaper homes at the bottom of the hill and the price bracket increasing steadily leading up to the Emperor's castle, situated among skyscraper like towers at the top.  It had a cyberpunk, gothic New York feel to it.  Utterly unique and very much like the contemporary Galra empire from what Keith had told him.  Once they land, Shiro insists on a tour before they retire for the evening.  Keith has no trouble with that request, dragging Shiro first to the annoyingly rich neighborhoods with droid security and a cleaning crew lingering in the streets to shoo unwanted vagabonds like them away from their lieges.  They go all the way to the ghettos, bathed in the blinding light of marketing screens on every building and billboard, making a wide circle to avoid the red light district.  The climb back up the hill to Keith's house undoubtedly sucks, but Shiro feels like he has a good understanding of the city at least at the end of the tour.

Their next dilemma is one Keith is embarrassed to admit he had not even considered.

"I don't have a guest bed."

"I can sleep on a couch or futon or something," Shiro offers, amused.

Keith gives him a withered, deadpan stare.  "I don't even have a sleeping bag to offer you, Shiro.  I don't have guests.  Ever."

What Keith does have is a  _gigantic_  bed.  It's roughly the size of a California King, which is so far from his understanding of how Keith lives that it renders him speechless.

"Kosmo sleeps with me normally," Keith defends around a mouthful of toothpaste.  "And I don't know if you've seen him lately, but he is a big boy."

"Of course you chose your bed size for your wolf," Shiro chuckles, getting comfortable on the right side of the bed, while Keith takes the right.  "Where is he anyway?"

"Around here somewhere, I'm sure. He'll probably pop back into the room in the middle of the night.  So if you feel 70 lbs of muscle and fur suddenly appear next to you, try not to be too alarmed."

Somewhere in the middle of the night he does feel the bed shift, a sudden weight press against the length of his back.  It's certainly not Kosmo's fluffy coat rubbing against his neck.  Keith's warm, way hotter than a human would feel.  Shiro knows the nurses at the Garrison used to constantly think he was running a fever when he would come in the get his knuckles bandaged.  He's not nearly awake enough to do anything other than acknowledge Keith's shift. The long trip, touring the city and not sleeping the night before took every bit of energy Shiro had left away from him.  Besides, the air in Daibazaal is freezing.  The extra heat source against him is just enough temperature regulation to push him over the edge of dozing into a deep, dreamless sleep.

While he was dead to the world through the night, Keith was making himself more and more comfortable in his own subconscious way.  It's the light flickering on full force that wakes him.  The Dark City isn't called that for no apparent reason. The sun orbiting Daibazaal casts more of a sunset red shade most of the day than the kind of daylight they get on Earth.  Most houses, Keith's included, featured an artificial day-night light transition, much like the castleship did.  The house had apparently decided it was morning.

Shiro first registers that his legs are restrained.  That sort of realization is usually more than enough to send him into an arm lashing panic, but when his breath hitches the scent that fills his nose calms him immediately.  The blankets, pillows, even his own shirt all smell like Keith now.  It's kind of strange that Keith's natural scent is something that Shiro recognizes so easily, but it was always been rather unique. Shiro first noticed it when they were sparring once.  At 21 years old and extremely comfortable in his sexuality, Shiro was more than accustomed to and welcoming of the smell of sweaty boy. Keith's smell was different than any person he'd ever met before. Faintly musky, but with a more spicy-sweet kick to it.  It wasn't unpleasant.  After associating it with their many hugs, wrestling matches, and the weekend nights spent curled up on couch in Shiro and Adam's apartment watching crappy kung-fu movies, Keith's smell was comforting, even.

And it does comfort him.  Enough to open his eyes and recognize that the weight holding him down is in fact Keith, doing his best impression of an octopus.  It's kind of cute actually.  Their legs are hopelessly tangled.  Keith even has one of his big toes pressed between Shiro's big and index toe of his left foot.  Shiro's not sure where his right arm is, probably trapped between them, but his left is pressed firmly to Shiro's chest.  Keith's hand is slack with sleep, but it's unmistakably resting right over Shiro's heart.  He has no idea how much of this Keith did consciously.  Likely none of it.  But, it feels so like him that Shiro can't stop the incredibly fond smile from spreading over his face.  A pleasant way to start a day he knows will be spent exploring a distant world with Keith at his side.

Someone clears their throat pointedly from the doorway, making Shiro jolt.  There, leaning against the frame, is Krolia.  An icy cold dread washes the warm contentment of the last few minutes from Shiro's body immediately.  It didn't escape his notice that Keith's little tour didn't include the Blades' headquarters.  He had known that Krolia hadn't been very happy with him around the time of his wedding, but he had no idea where they stood now.

Now...when she found Shiro, a still very much married man, cuddled up in bed with her only son, whose trust he broke.  Shiro gulps.

If Krolia is planning to murder him, she sure does seem calm about it.  The Marmoran leader even looks vaguely amused, though the thought does nothing to comfort him.  "Kosmo," she calls.  From his left, he sees that Kosmo did in fact join them in the night.  Whatever space Keith abandoned to snuggle up to him was now filled with the gigantic wolf.  The beast flicks an ear, before leaning down to curl around Keith.  The smell of ozone fills the air as the pair teleport away, only going to the far end of the bed.  Shiro sits up, free from Keith's affectionate grip.  They stay quiet, waiting to see if the movement will have disturbed Keith.  The man grumbles, flopping over onto his left side to bury his face in Kosmo's fur, but doesn't wake.  Shiro lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

"Let's go for a walk, Shiro," Krolia says.  There's minimal inflection in her words.  He knows better than to assume it's anything other than a command.

He dresses and follows her out of the house and into the brisk morning air.  The red light peaking over the building tops makes the city look ethereal.  If Altea, with its clear skies and endless flowerbeds, looked like heaven to Lance (as he said it did), then Daibazaal was Inferno.  That wasn't necessarily a bad thing.  Krolia takes them up the tall sloping hill Keith's neighborhood was built on.  They wander through the streets silently, but obviously with purpose.  The street curves to the right, but Krolia passes through a large arch instead of following it.  Shiro gasps aloud at the sight of the commercial district down below them, bathed in the sunlight that almost looks warm from this angle.  It's...beautiful in a way.  The metal and bricks, usually so dark and gloomy in color, take on an almost gray tone in direct light.  If anyone needed an image to explain the shift that the Galra Empire had been undergoing recently, this would be the one Shiro would show them.

Krolia chuckles at his slack jawed reaction.  "So much of the city exists in the shadow of the castle.  People rarely get to see what it looks like in the light."

"It's gorgeous."

"It truly is."  They take in the sight of the city beneath them for a little while longer before Krolia gets to the crux of the matter.  She's much like Keith in that aspect.  He respects it about them.  "Why are you here, Shiro?"

It's not as simple a question as it sounds.  She likely doesn't care why he and Keith stopped in Daibazaal for the night.  She wants to know what Shiro's intent is with this trip.

With Keith.

"I've seen the work the Blades has been doing.  Made me realize how directionless my life is right now."  Krolia's gaze is still on the landscape.  Shiro sighs.  "And Keith is here."

And that's the more honest part.  He wouldn't be here if it wasn't for Keith.  Shiro smiled to himself.  He wouldn't be anywhere if it wasn't for Keith.

"What is it you hope to gain?"

He shrugs.  "Nothing.  Or maybe everything? I don't really have anything in mind.  I enjoy hearing Keith tell me about his adventures and missions.  I'm sick of sitting around waiting for my life to interest me again.  And I'm doing my best to mend our friendship along the way.  Keith offered.  I said yes.  Now, I'm here."

Seeing the stars again and spending time with Keith.  That was all he needed out of this.  Maybe he would go to Eaherene and find his true calling in life.  Maybe it would just be a nice day.  And maybe it would suck and he would go back to Earth with his tail between his legs and never venture forth into the true final frontier ever again.  But he already knew that last one wouldn't happen.  Even here, being grilled by his best friend's intimidating mother, a part of his soul he hadn't realized was missing was clicking back into place.

Krolia nods.  "Very well, then.  Keith will probably be awake by now.  We should head back."

Shiro blinks.  "Wh- That's it?"  Krolia shoots him a curious look over her shoulder.  Blushing at his own verbal inelegance, he tries again.  "I expected something a bit different from this conversation."

The smile on Krolia's face can only be described as coy.  It throws Shiro off. "Feeling guilty over anything, Mr. Shirogane?"  That doesn't help his blush at all.  Krolia chuckles.  "I could threaten you if you'd prefer me to.  But I don't think I need to.  I saw some of your past you know," her tone is almost conversational.  "The Quantum Abyss showed Keith and I many things.  Past, present, even the future.  After two years of seeing visions of your friendship with my son, I'd like to think I know you at least a bit, Shiro."  Her expression is warm.  It shocks him a bit.  Keith had never mentioned visions, only that he learned his parents' history in that time.  "It was strange meeting you in person.  You weren't at all like the man Keith remembered."

"Well," Shiro mutters, unsure how to feel about that. "That may have been because the first version of me you met was a clone."

Krolia shook her head, gaze fixed on him intensely.  The kind of look that went through someone, not just at them.  "No.  I felt that way until today."

It gave him pause.  In his more recent years, he could understand why someone would say he had changed.  He had.  Their losses during the war had weighed so heavily on his soul.  The very sight of the Atlas was enough to give him a headache.  He had even spent a straight week with his prosthetic arm locked in a drawer so he didn't have to look at it.  And be reminded of the remarkable woman that gave it to him.  Looking back, nothing good would have come from forcing his battered mind to focus on another big project or goal.  He had needed the time to rest, get the ground beneath his feet again.  To anyone who knew him, hearing Takashi Shirogane say he was done with space would definitely have felt out of character.  The levity in his chest now was proof that it was.  But, it was a necessary break all the same.

But to be told that his time as Captain of the Atlas, when he had finally felt like he knew his place in the fight with Keith in Black's chair, was like that too?  That he couldn't imagine.

Krolia sensed his confusion.  "You're a disciplined man, Shiro.  There's no doubt to that.  But, I don't think you realize how much you let your duty consume you.  You seemed so busy being the leader everyone wanted you to be that you lost sight of the man you were when the epaulets came off."

Shiro supposed there wasn't too much to argue about that.  Part of why it was so easy to keep Keith at arm's length was because he felt he had to be an impartial being aboard the Atlas.  His own emotions had little place at a war table where his words carried the power to send hundreds of men and women to their deaths.  He had to be logical.  It wasn't even a consideration that he might have been isolating himself in that time.

He would have to ask Sam about that when he next saw him.

"And now?" Shiro asks, listlessly.

A warm hand rested on his shoulder, drawing his eyes up to meet hers.  The look on her face was nothing but fond.  "Now, I see you doing the first thing meant only for yourself in a very long time.  I don't claim to know what your calling is now, Shiro, but the universe is vast and getting more free every day.  There are plenty of ways to help the worlds heal that don't mean denying yourself your own passions.  I sincerely hope you find something that speaks to you."  Then, the arm on his shoulder tugs him closer, into a firm embrace.

It takes him no time at all to wrap his arms around her in return.  His voice sounds choked as he replies, "Thank you.  I do too."

Krolia escorts him back to Keith's house in silence once more.  But it's a comfortable, amicable quiet now.  It's no wonder Keith came back so grounded, Shiro thinks, if he had his mother's advice to shape him.  Keith is indeed awake and dressed when they get back, looking vaguely concerned even after Krolia explains that they had gone for a little stroll.  The solidarity of Keith's worry for his safety in the hands of his own mother means more to him than he can explain, even if it is a little silly in retrospect.

They don't linger on Daibazaal after that.  Pilling multiple crates of food and drink (not water, Keith explains to him as they pack up the ship.  The people of Eaherene weren't carbon based.  Water would likely kill them if they ingested it) and a couple of oxygen masks into the cargo hold takes them under an hour.  Shiro goes to climb into the co-pilot's seat once more, but Keith stops him with a hand on his bicep.  "You wanna fly?"

He can only imagine what kind of face he makes, but it doesn't matter because it earns him Keith's laughter in his ear and his hands on the sticks of a fine piece of Galra engineering.  The coordinates Keith punches into the console are easy enough to get to. Cherry Bomb flies like a dream.  He resists the urge to test her maneuverability in an asteroid field on the way there.  Keith must anticipate his thought because he assures Shiro that they can take "the fun route" back to Daibazaal if they want.  Shiro wonders for the millionth time how he got so lucky to have a best friend like Keith.  They may have a destination in mind, but there's no urgency.  For the first time ever, there's no restrictions placed on his piloting.  Garrison mission were always recorded and watched so strictly.  One false move and that trip would be your last.  And flying Black and Atlas had never felt like it was flying for the sake of it.  Keith is the picture of ease in the co-pilot chair, humming along to a song on the radio and occasionally pointing out planets in the solar system he had been to.  Shiro at the helm of his precious ship causes Keith no anxiety, which is an honor of the highest proportions.  Shiro's positive that if he decided to change course and land on any random piece of land, Keith wouldn't complain.  

He doesn't do that.  But, knowing that he could makes all the difference.

The landing strip on Eaherene is only about a mile's walk from the most populous civilization on the planet, Yusafa.  Apparently, the city had become one giant black market, as well as a war zone for the rival gangs of the planet to fight in.  The Eahrerens choosing to stay in Yusafa did so for a reason and weren't exactly the Blades' target audience.  Instead of heading there, Keith leaves CB in the protection of a woman by the name of Lillica, trading the keys for a pod just large enough to house the supplies they brought with them.  The air on Eaherene is dense and mostly made of sulfur.  They wouldn't immediately suffocate, Keith explained, but it wouldn't take more than twenty minutes for the oxygen content to prove insufficient.  Armed with oxygen masks, a blaster for Shiro, and Keith's newly forged luxite blade, they ventured south toward the slums where the vast majority of Eaherene's residents lived.

And boy were they excited to see Keith.

No sooner had they touched the pod to the ground and climbed out than did a swarm of four eyed, translucent skinned humanoids rush to meet them.  Their language was not among the common galactic languages, but the translator in his helmet did a decent job.  Shiro was impressed by how easily Keith responded to the Eaherens in their own mother tongue.  Not long sentences of course, but enough to hold short conversation. While Keith greeted the villagers, Shiro made himself useful by cracking open their crates.  Without any prompting, people started forming a single file line in front of the pod.  Keith eventually joined him, teaching a few words of Eaherenese where could.  Their language was all back of the throat growls, grunts and hums, but the awkwardness of his attempts to say basic phrases did not detract from the support he got from those he handed out supplies to.  And when he had finally perfected the simplest noise Keith knew (which was a blessing roughly equivalent to "may you never go hungry") and was able to repeat it comprehensibly to a young girl, it lit his heart up to see how happy it made her.

Keith had brought enough that every family would have rations for the next month, as well as an entire crate to stick into the store room under the cabin the village elders lived in.  It wasn't a perfect solution, Shiro thought.  The difficulties the poor faced were directly related to the cruelty of the gangs.  As long as they still roamed the planet, the natural food sources of the planet would be bare.  Keith acknowledged this too, as he led the way through the slums toward a high cliff face.  But, the Blades had offered to do battle with the gangs so that the citizens wouldn't have to.  They had refused.  "The greedy will choke on their own malice before the deca-phoeb is through," the elder had claimed.  "We will stand resilient until that day."

When they finally reached the cliff, Shiro admitted he was a bit confused.  A grand expanse of nothing but land stretched out before them.  And quite a dangerous drop along with it.  Keith's interest was on the small shed near the path, though.  "Catch," he called, throwing a metal board at Shiro.  It was sturdy and had what appeared to be magnetic pads on one side.  Before he could ask, Keith held up a pair of boots with a grin.  "C'mon Shiro.  Put these on.  You're gonna  _love_  this." 

All suited up, he and Keith stood overlooking the valley.  Keith's eyes were closed, looking serene as he tipped his head back.  The masks they brought fit only over their mouths, but were much more secure than Shiro expected.  He was sort of glad they weren't full helmets though.  Keith's long hair swaying in the breeze added to his at ease appearance.  Another moment passed before Shiro finally got impatient.  "Are we...waiting for something?"

"Yeah.  S'called a swell.  You'll hear it when it hits."

He didn't have to wait long.  The ground below them wasn't just empty land.  It was covered in steam vents.  The sound of them opening all at once created a roar that rattled Shiro's rib cage and took his breath away.  Keith grinned at him over his shoulder and leaped from the cliff, slipping the board under his legs as he plummeted.  A scream got caught in his throat, but was quickly aborted when Keith soared into the air above Shiro's head with a joyous cry.

He was _sky surfing_.

It didn't take more than a second for Shiro to take the leap himself, scream turning into a laugh as the board attached to his boots with an audible snap and the air below his feet rocketed him upwards.  It wasn't anything like surfing on water.  There was no resistance whatsoever.  And also unlike water, tumbling upside down was entirely possible and very hard to fix once it had happened.  Still, this was even better than sky diving and zero gravity.  The air was warm and came in waves.  He could free fall or float or fly.  It was amazingly freeing.

Keith finally must have noticed his plight because he materialized at Shiro's side with a giggle.  "Need some help, old timer?"

"Please tell me this will last for awhile," was all he responded, reaching his hands out for Keith to drag him upright.

"We've got about thirty minutes," Keith grinned, pulling on left hand.  "It's just like a hoverbike!  Back leg down to get lift, front leg down to dive."  And just like Keith, he didn't give Shiro much time to think about it, jetting them up several feet then into a gentle spin.  Shiro was just as much of a quick learner as Keith in this respect anyway.  It wasn't long before they were soaring together, playing tag and racing.  It was the most fun Shiro had had in ages.  At some point, an unexpected surge of air below them sent them both tumbling upward, spinning and screaming jovially in surprise.  At the apex of their arc, Shiro managed to reach out and grab Keith's hand.  They fell back toward the ground, hands tightly clasped together, faces close, laughing merrily.  The burst had ripped Keith's ponytail out of its tie, his long hair floating freely in the air around them as the vents belong them gently broke their fall.  Something about the way Keith looked in that moment, violet eyes twinkling happily in the setting sunlight, smile wider beneath its mask than it had ever been in Shiro's recent memory, unhitched something in Shiro's chest. It was a sight Shiro would hold in his heart forever, he thought.

They must have lost track of time because the air wasn't keeping them nearly as elevated as it was moments ago.  He heard Keith curse, eyes on the sky above them.  Shiro followed his glance to a dark cloud that was nearly upon them.  "Hurry!" Keith screamed, racing for the cliff side, Shiro hot on his heels.  They just didn't have enough lift to make it back up to the top.  Keith grunted as he slammed into the cliff, scrambling up as quickly as he could.  

Whatever was in that cloud was going to reach them before they made it to the top, Shiro realized.  And there was no cover big enough for both of them until the slums anyway.  Thinking fast, Shiro noticed an indent in the rock face several meters down from them.  "Keith!" he called.  "Cave!"

They managed to scurry into the cave, Keith scooting them all the way back of the enclosure, just as liquid poured from the sky, hissing horrifyingly as it landed.  Shiro turned to Keith in alarm.  "Downside of a planet with sulfur in its atmosphere: sulfuric acid raid," Keith explained breathlessly.  "Sorry.  Didn't even notice the storm."

All Shiro could do was laugh.  It wasn't long before Keith was chuckling alongside him.  That was completely their luck.  An otherwise perfect day closed out by deadly environmental factors.

The cave wasn't very tall.  Neither of them could even fully sit up, so they settled for laying down, facing one another.  Aside from the light hiss it gave off, the sound of the rain was slightly comforting.  He could probably have fallen asleep like that, but there was something he had to say first.

"Thank you, Keith."

"For getting you trapped in an acid hell storm?  You're quite welcome."

Shiro smiled, meeting Keith's gaze.  "For teaching me to love space again."

Keith's eyes widened.  "Shiro."  His lip curved upward at the side.  One of his hands fumbled in the near dark for Shiro's.  "You never have to thank me for that.  Ever.  It's...my pleasure."

The storm eventually passed and they bid the Eaherens goodbye.  The "fun route" was just as challenging and entertaining as Shiro thought it would be and he counted it as a point of pride that Cherry Bomb had not a single scratch on her when they land back in Daibazaal.

The entire trip had taken no more than a weekend, but that weekend was all Shiro needed to know.  That was what he wanted.  There wasn't a single thing about the trip that he hadn't fallen madly in love with.  Including the hiding from acid rain, he assured Keith with a laugh.  He wanted more of the exciting new places, wanted the tinge of danger to get his blood pumping in his veins, wanted to bring smiles to more people that needed him, not just the cause he stood for.  And he most of all wanted see Keith more often.  Their friendship had flourished so beautifully during the trip, it was almost hard to believe they were just coming off a five year hiatus.  But, they had come back together so effortlessly.  Sitting on his ass at home and watching Keith describe his journeys through a screen would never satisfy him ever again.

There was nothing subtle about the excitement and happiness in Keith's eyes when Shiro told him just that.

Keith had a summit with the other Galactic Republic leaders in the coming week, but they made tentative plans for Keith to swing back by Earth afterwards.  They'd have a day or two to spend with the other paladins and then set off again.  That gave Shiro around a week to get ready to start the newest adventure in his life.

And figure out what the hell he was going to tell Curtis.

It wasn't hard for him to imagine the conversation going poorly.  The last time he had chosen to follow his passions up among the stars, Adam had told him that he had to choose between him and his dreams.  That was a gross oversimplification of course.  Shiro's illness, their previous fights, Shiro not being the most attentive lover, the engagement, they were all complications in an equation that spelled disaster for their relationship.  Keith had asked him as they relocated his belongings to a faculty dorm room across the Garrison campus, if he even still loved Adam anymore.  He said that he did.  And it wasn't a lie.

Loving someone wasn't always a good enough reason to be with them, unfortunately.

Shiro knew he wasn't easy to be with.  He was fickle, selfish at times, and at all stage of his life had some preexisting condition to be concerned with.  In his youth, it was his illness.  Now, his PTSD came with so many quirks and hoops to jump through.  If Curtis had told him that he wanted nothing more to do with Shiro because being with him was too much of a pain in the ass, Shiro would understand.  He was ready for it in fact.

That wasn't what ended up happening.

"Tak," Curtis cooed, smile wide and sincere.  "I'm so happy for you!  Sit down and tell me  _everything_."

So he did.  And throughout the whole story, the only complaint Curtis had was that Shiro had failed to take any pictures to show him.  It was unreal how accepting and supportive Curtis was being about all of this.  Even when Shiro told him it might be a longer trip next time.  Even though it was surely going to be only the first of many.  Curtis didn't flinch.  If it made Shiro happy, then he was happy.  It was so sweet, Shiro didn't even know what to do with it.

The really fucked up part was that he almost would have found it easier to deal with Curtis dumping him right there on the spot.

So, he and Keith ventured back out into space, planning to return in a month this time.  Shiro had expected Krolia to have something to say about Shiro's newfound presence on every mission Keith went on.  And she did.  Just not what he expected to hear. "I've been trying to convince Keith to stop going out there on his own for years now.  Axca and the girls have their own responsibilities, though, so he usually ends up ignoring my orders.  Keep an eye on my boy, won't you, Shiro?"

It's a promise he doesn't make lightly and has no trouble holding himself to.

He keeps his promise to Curtis and takes more pictures.  Now it was Shiro that spent his mornings curled up on the bed Krolia graciously force Keith to buy for the spare bedroom ("your room" Keith reminds him constantly) with Kosmo, sending Curtis his newest batch of images and explaining the story behind every one.  The missions themselves were definitely the best part, though.  In that month, they made gone to three different systems.  The first was a mostly diplomatic appearance in the same system as Altea.  Lance had flown out to meet them, joining in the restoration of a school.  Their involvement wasn't strictly necessary in all honesty, but the summit had given Kolivan the vibe that the other leaders thought the Blades were acting too much on their own whims and not doing enough in the name of the Republic.  It was stupid politics at its finest, but Shiro would accept it since he got to spend three nights getting trashed with Lance and Keith in the local pub.  

Their second mission was more what Shiro was expecting.  A Galra splinter group had managed to get their hands on some nice weapons and turned their fury on a republic peace corp movement in a neutral territory.  It disturbed him a bit how easy it was to get back into the groove of fighting for his life.  Lower stakes this time.  The terrorists were well armed but not skilled with their weapons.  Between the two of them, they were able to disarm and apprehend all fifteen of the rebels, with no casualties.   

Finally, the most recent adventure had been securing a trade route for a system that had recently got their own ships up and running.  They were clunky little things.  Shiro took one look at the vessels and knew a stray asteroid would wipe them out instantly, let alone something worse like solar flares or laser fire.  The path it would take them on ended up being long and winding, but gave the ships natural cover and no obvious environmental hazards.  Curtis listened to every tale with rapt attention, but it was obvious the lifestyle switch was hard for him to adjust to.  Shiro asked him if there was anything he could do to make it easier on him.  "Just come home safely, Tak.  I miss you."

That shouldn't have been a hard condition to meet.  Except that the night before Shiro was due to head back to Earth, a distress beacon came in with a code red.  It seemed that the weapon dealer of the splinter group had multiple buyers.  And these new ones were better at using their guns.  An entire republic base and most of the endogenous city it was housed in were decimated by the time they got there.  It took him, Keith, Axca, Zethrid, Ezor and a hit team of Kolivan's finest fighters to suppress the fire and neutralize the threat.  It was demoralizing.  Wandering through the streets looking for any survivors was harrowing.  He found Keith slumped over the body of a young boy, tears running unashamed down his face.  The fire in Keith's eyes was matched only by the one burning in his chest.  Shiro was the one to ask Kolivan for permission to find and take down the dealer.  He ordered them to have it done within the week.  Keith muttered only loud enough for Shiro to hear him that it wouldn't take that long if he had anything to say about it.

When Curtis answered the call, he took one look at Shiro and immediately said, "You're not on your way home, are you?"

"No," Shiro whispered.  "We...something happened."

"Are you hurt?"

"No."

"Are you still going to come home?"

"...Eventually."

Curtis's eyes slid shut.  "I see."

Shiro's emotions were fried.  He couldn't even delve up the will to feel bad for making Curtis upset in that moment.

"I need to do this, Curt."

A breathy laugh.  "Yeah.  I know you do."  Curtis clicked a pen in his hand a couple times, licking his lips.  "Hey, Tak?"

"Hmm?"

"What if...I came out there with you?"

Shiro flinched.  "What?"

“It’s making you happy, Tak.  I don’t want to get in the way of that.  So, let me come with you.  We can go chase down stars together.”

"You think that's all I'm doing?" he asked, half in disbelief.  "Chasing stars?"

"...is that a no, Takashi?"

It was the kind of line he would expect to find in a romance novel.  A testament to just how far Curtis was willing to bend to make sure he was happy. Shiro is reminded again just how _good_ of a man his husband is. He tries to imagine it, just for a moment.  The two of them getting their own ship and doing odd jobs for the peace corp.  Curtis leaving the job he was so infatuated with behind for him.  The illusion falls apart before it even starts.  Not only would he never want Curtis to have to do that for him, but it was just impossible to picture Curtis there in the thick of a dog fight with him.  Or handing out food rations to children in a war torn street.  Or sky surfing on a foreign planet with toxic rain.

Because no matter how hard he tries, the face that appears there naturally isn't Curtis's.

It's Keith's. 

He doesn't have to say anything.  Curtis just laughed, shaking his head a bit.  "Nevermind.  That was a dumb question.  Forget I asked.  Just...come back home when you can, Takashi."

It's only later when Shiro's watching the stars pass by the window of Cherry Bomb that Shiro realizes that Curtis didn't tell him he loved him before hanging up.

True to Keith's word, it takes them three days (with Pidge's help) to trace the weapons back to a shady backwater planet near within a day's flight of both effected systems.  The payment methods were encrypted well, didn't leave a terribly easy to find paper trail.  But Pidge had never had a problem doing the impossible.  The guy must not have expected the sales to get back to him because he put up virtually no fight.  Maybe Keith put a bit too much force into his punches for the amount of resistance they were getting.  But, Shiro had no sympathy for the snake.  Three days later, Shiro was on his way back to Earth, villain safely behind bars and weapons destroyed for good measure.

"Mom wants to go to a spa for a couple weeks.  The stress has really gotten to her.  Wants me to come with her since you'll probably be on Earth for a bit."

"That sounds nice, Keith," Shiro says sincerely.  "You probably need the rest.  Tell your mom to send me and Lance embarrassing pictures of you with a mud mask on."

Keith rolls his eyes in a good natured way.  "Oh, don't worry.  I'm sure she will."

Keith denies his offer to crash with them for awhile before flying back.  Shiro rides the bus from the airport to their place, figuring it might be nice to surprise Curtis by showing up without any warning.  He unlocks the door and drops his bag at the door, calling "I'm home!" to the mostly quiet apartment.  He hears Curtis's voice in the kitchen as well as the crinkling of paper.  When he walks into the kitchen, he spots Curtis at the kitchen table, bent over a pile of papers, wide eyes looking up at him.  The first thing that strike his is that his eyes are red rimmed.  He'd been crying.

"I have to go, Mycah.  I'll call you later," Curtis mutters, hanging up before he gets a response.

"Hey," Shiro greets weakly.  "Everything ok?"

His head races with all the things that could be bad enough to make his husband cry.  Mycah had just been on the phone with him, so obviously Mycah was alright.  Curtis himself didn't seem hurt, which was good.  God, Shiro sincerely hoped it was nothing to do with his job.  How cruel would that have been?  Curtis losing his dream job just as Shiro found something to dedicate his life to?  Before he can speculate further, Curtis stands from his seat and at the table and meets Shiro's eyes.  He lets out a shaky breath.

"We need to talk."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you can't tell, I really can't decide what tense I want this story in. Changes by the minute. Ah well.
> 
> Next: A door shuts and Shiro has a revelation.


	4. Unsteady

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "There will be no grace in this conversation, Shiro thinks, taking a stiff seat across from where Curtis had originally be sitting. Despite all the signs having pointed to some sort of turning point in their recently turmoil filled relationship, Shiro had done nothing to prepare for this. He has no defense prepared. And no apology that won't sound empty.
> 
> He's not even really sure what the best path to pursue here is.
> 
> Curtis doesn't give him much of a chance to agonize over it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finals are over and I have nothing but good vibes and time. Let's crank the rest of this out, shall we?
> 
> Song in the title is Unsteady by X Ambassadors.

"We need to talk."

 

There are some things that are just well known social facts.  Like that your mother calling you by your full name meant you had done something wrong.  No one who had grown up on Earth needed to be told that.  They just know.  Shiro's not sure where this one comes from.  Movies and books maybe.  It doesn't really matter.  The point is that there's no a single doubt in Shiro's mind what kind of conversation could follow those words.

 

The other shoe was finally dropping.  If anything, Shiro was just surprised it had taken this long.

 

There will be no grace in this conversation, Shiro thinks, taking a stiff seat across from where Curtis had originally be sitting.  Despite all the signs having pointed to some sort of turning point in their recently turmoil filled relationship, Shiro had done nothing to prepare for this.  He has no defense prepared.  And no apology that won't sound empty.

 

He's not even really sure what the best path to pursue here is.

 

Curtis doesn't give him much of a chance to agonize over it.

 

"I think it would be best," he starts, each word slow and measured.  "If we got a divorce."

 

Whatever he expected the opening of this conversation to be, it wasn't that.

 

"I thought you said you wanted to talk," Shiro jokes weakly.  Not much to talk about with what Shiro now sees are divorce papers sitting on their kitchen table.  

 

"I do," Curtis confirms, rubbing a hand over his tired looking eyes.  Shiro's heart strings tug a bit at the sight of him so ragged.  Curtis was the eternal optimist.  For him to make plans to abandon ship, he had to be really poorly off.

 

"Have you been sleeping?" It's not what he meant to say.  But, it's not an unfair question.

 

The man across from him chuckles mirthlessly.  "Not well."  His eyes meet Shiro's for a moment before he produces the least convincing smile ever.  "It's not your fault."

 

"Yes it is."

 

He sighs, nodding a bit.  Curtis amends his statement, "It's not exclusively your fault."

 

The silence in the apartment is staggering.  Stewing in it doesn't feel any more productive that breaking it in that moment, so Shiro gets up and turns on the kettle.  He grabs Curtis's favorite tea bags from the cabinet.  Makes it just like Curtis always like it: no milk but a metric fuck ton of sugar.  An olive branch, if that sort of thing could even be useful in times like these.  The other man seems to appreciate the gesture, accepting his mug with a grateful, withered smile.

 

It's just long enough of a break to give Curtis something to say.  "You know how I went to the doctor, a couple of months ago?"

 

Shiro blinks, getting slight vertigo from the whiplash of changing topics that fast.  A different sort of apprehension builds up in him.  One he thought he had abandoned with the body he lost in Black all those years ago.  "I do.  Curtis..." 

 

"I was just having a hard time putting any weight on.  And you should know how crappy my diet has been lately.  I thought it was just stress from work or something."  Curtis shrugs, stirring a spoon pointlessly in his tea.  "They did a blood test.  My white blood cell level count was insane, so they immediately started checking my lymph nodes to see if they were swollen.  They found two of them that were obviously inflamed.  I hadn't even noticed."  Shiro's heart clenches painfully in his chest.  There was no way he was hearing this right.  "Biopsy came back positive for non-Hodgin's."

 

Dear God.

 

"You have cancer," Shiro repeats, stunned.  Curtis nods.  "I had no-... When did you find out?"

 

"They told me I needed a biopsy right before you left on your first trip with Keith.  Got the results back conclusively a week ago."

 

That...Shiro had no idea what to do with that information.  Normally, he would have rushed across the room to pull Curtis (anyone really who just told him they had fucking cancer) into a tight hug, but just looking at him, he could tell that wasn't what Curtis wanted.  Hunched shoulders, face listless and empty of emotion.  That whole time that Shiro had been gallivanting off with Keith, Curtis was here on Earth, watching his life slip through his fingers.  

 

And Shiro hadn't had any clue.

 

"I didn't tell you that to make you feel guilty, Tak," Curtis admits, looking at him now.  "I know you didn't know.  You couldn't have.  Because I chose not to tell you."

 

"Why?"

 

One of Curtis's hands comes up to scratch at his scalp.  "Yeah, that's a good question, actually."  He half laughs, smile much closer to a grimace.  "I told Mycah the moment I found out.  And my boss, some of my coworkers.  Hell, Takashi, Sam Holt and I had lunch and discussed options for the Garrison covering my chemo last week."

 

The emotions in his chest are a tangled mess. Part of him wanted to be angry.  His husband had kept something from him.  Something very important.  But, that thought was so fleeting and minuscule compared to the sheer panic. His mind raced with the need to drag his holopad out and research everything he could about the condition.  What was the survival rate?  What were the side effects of chemo?  Yet, it still distinctly felt like he hadn't been invited to that thought process.  Curtis hadn't told him on purpose.  There was only one question that could make it past his lips.

 

" _Why_?" he stressed, fully aware that he sounded like a broken record.

 

"Not really sure.  Mycah thought it was because I didn't want to distract you from this new thing you've got going for you with the Blades.  And maybe that is part of it, but I hadn't honestly thought of it like that before he brought it up.  I think it would be more accurate to say I just didn't feel like telling you."  His tone was just so frank.  So final.  "I don't think you wouldn't have handled it well.  You probably know better than anyone how best to deal with life threatening illnesses.  If anything, I was worried you'd try to stay with me out of some misplaced duty."

 

"I'm your husband," Shiro reminds Curtis weakly, left hand clenching around nothing.  "Staying by you through sickness and health  _is_  my duty."

 

"I know," Curtis whispers, smiling ruefully at the ring on his own left hand.  "But...I don't know if I want it to be.  I had exactly who I needed with me, Tak."  A list of people that Shiro wasn't among.  It goes unspoken, but at the same time they're both vividly aware of the words lingering between the lines Curtis had just drawn in the sand.  Shaking his head, Curtis laughs miserably.  "That sounds so fucking cruel.  I'm sorry."

 

"No it's not," Shiro breaths.  "Because I know what you're saying.  That's...exactly how I felt when you asked if you could come to space with me."

 

Curtis's eyes look glassy when he smiles back at Shiro.  "I know that too." 

 

Maybe Shiro hadn't exactly pictured how their marriage would unravel at the seams, but he had felt it coming for awhile.  This, though, was far beyond what he had foreseen.  They were on strangely even ground in his conversation.  The moment Shiro found his lost passion on Eaherene, the only way he could have seen this going was the same way it had gone with Adam.  Shiro, headstrong and untouchable, leaving everything behind to follow his dreams.  The place in his soul lined with nebulae unseen, battles to fight on behalf of those who couldn't, and starry eyed awe didn't belong to Curtis.  Who would have guessed that there was a vacant slot on Curtis's own universe than Shiro's jagged edges didn't fit into?  That they both felt like the other wasn't what they wanted or needed from a partner in this new phase in their lives?

 

In a strange way, that almost comforted him. 

 

"So, a divorce," Shiro summarizes weakly.

 

Curtis pushes the pile of papers to the middle of the table, nodding stiffly.  "A divorce."

 

They talk quietly for the rest of the evening about how best to split up their belongings.  It wasn't a hard conversation.  They didn't even have a joint bank account, since all of Shiro's funds were kept in a fixed savings account from the Garrison.  Curtis took the stance that since he was the one initiating the process, he would do the leg work needed to see it through.  It felt cheap, especially knowing all the other things on his plate.  Shiro wanted to be able to do something to lift some of that weight, if for no other reason than because he still cared deeply for Curtis.

 

"You can help by letting me do this.  Everything else in my life feels like I have no control over it, Takashi.  Let me hold the reins on this one?"

 

There was nothing left for him to say about that. After all, Shiro knew all too well what it was like to feel powerless to the whims of your own body.

 

Curtis doesn't ask him to find another place to stay that night.  Shiro would honestly have been surprised if he did.  It still felt wrong to crawl into the bed they'd shared together in their years being married.  So, he exiled himself to the couch.  Even then, the emotions swirling in his chest screamed to be released, but he refused them.  This wasn't the place, nor the time.  Anything he let tear at him here would only make Curtis feel guilty.  Which was the last thing he wanted.  Because it wasn't Curtis's fault.  It wasn't.  Shiro was the broken one.  Shiro was the one who agreed to marry him, knowing that things were complicated for him. Shiro was...

 

Shiro was the one dumb enough to think that a domestic life, away the stars, away from Keith and the rest of his friends was even possible in the first place.

 

His bottom lip trembled, vision blurring under the weight of unshed tears.  He refused to let them fall.  But, the tightness in his chest was agony.  Flipping his holopad on, he stared at the last message Keith had sent him, days ago.  It wasn't very note worthy.  Just confirmation that Pidge's coordinates matched with their other intel.  It served as a reminder for Shiro, though.  The pain that lived in his chest now was for a reason.  There was a future out there waiting for him and this was the sacrifice needed to obtain it.  Whether it felt like a raw deal now or not, there was no turning back.

 

Damn if it didn't ache though.

 

Biting his lip harshly, Shiro typed out a message to Keith.  It was stupid.  It hadn't been more than three hours since Keith had dropped him off at the airport.  He wouldn't even be back to Daibazaal yet.  What's more, when he did make it back, he already had made a commitment to go with his mother on that trip.  There wasn't any point in messaging Keith.  And yet, Shiro wanted to.  He wanted Keith to know.  The ground beneath Shiro's feet was crumbling and the only thing he could think of was how badly he wanted Keith to be there to break his fall.  To steady him.  Before he could talk himself out of it, Shiro hit send.  It's wasn't descriptive.  A simple **hey** with no other indicators.  Meaningless.

 

He got a response in seconds.   **What's wrong?**

 

Shiro breathed out the ghost of a laugh.  How the hell did Keith do that?  How did he just...know things?   **I'm okay** , he responded.   **Just wanted to make sure you made it back okay.** It's a lie on multiple accounts, but he doesn't feel bad for it.  Somehow, Keith's attentiveness was more than enough to make him feel better.  Keith never responded, probably too busy flying.  Shiro chucked the pad onto the coffee table, curling up into a tight ball to wait out the rest of his miserable night.  He had no idea what the hell he was going to do in the morning, where he would go.

 

It was a problem for future Shiro.

 

Curtis was planning to keep the apartment.  They had just renewed their lease, after all.  Breaking it was more trouble for both of them than it was worth.  And Curtis wasn't exactly going to be in the appropriate physical state to move when he started his chemotherapy in the coming weeks.  Shiro wrote him a lofty check to make up for his part of the rent, basically forcing him to accept it.  All that said, there was no real rush to move his stuff.  Curtis only asked that he assemble everything into one room neatly before he left.  So, Shiro spent the morning doing just that.  He'd only been at it for an hour or so before the doorbell rang.  Curtis was in the kitchen deeply engrossed in a phone call with his endocrinologist, so Shiro went to answer it, expecting to see Mycah on the other side.

 

It wasn't Mycah.

 

For a moment, Shiro is concerned that the sleep deprivation was causing him to hallucinate.  He hadn't exactly slept well the night before the trip back to Earth, head still too filled with images of laser burnt houses and prone bodies.  And he sure as hell didn't sleep last night.  So it wouldn't have been that surprisingly if the sight before him was just a strange fever dream.

 

There was no way that Keith was standing on his doorstep, hands shoved deep into his pockets, hair a greasy mess and eyes dark rimmed from apparent lack of sleep himself.  Over his shoulder, he could see a familiar red truck with a trailer hitched to the back sitting on the curb.  It was Sam's.  It always amazed him that the old piece of crap still ran.

 

"Figured you might have needed backup," Keith offers in greeting, eyes soft with understanding, but no hint of pity.

 

Shiro would never, in this universe or any other, be worthy of Keith Kogane.

 

The clear and present danger of him falling apart at the seams in the open doorway seals his lips, but he lets Keith in with the most grateful smile he can manage.  They don't speak as Shiro leads him to his office, where he had recently relocated the boxes containing all his clothes.  Keith stacks two on top of each other and carries them off effortlessly.  Shiro marvels at Keith's strength for a moment before deciding to make himself useful.  He's most of the way done with emptying out the closet and dresser drawers into a suitcase when Curtis wanders into the bedroom.

 

"Why is the front door open?" he wonders, sounding absolutely exhausted.

 

The answer to his question comes in the form of Keith peeking his head into the room.  "Office is empty, what else is there?"  It occurs to Shiro that Keith and Curtis haven't spoken more than two words to each other since the wedding.  And even then, Keith wasn't exactly a social butterfly.  It's not exactly a situation he's equipped to handle on no sleep and mounting emotional distress either.

 

Thankfully, neither man seems to keen to start anything.  Curtis merely blinks and mutters, "Oh.  Keith.  Um, hello."

 

Keith spares Curtis a brief glance and a nod in response, but nothing further.  "What's left?" he repeats to Shiro, quieter now.

 

Shiro hands him off the suitcase and tells him the bookcase in the living room is his stuff too.  Keith needs no further prompting, leaving the way he came.  

 

"When he says the office is empty," Curtis begins, in a daze.  "does that mean..."

 

"That he lifted my desk over his head and single-handedly carried it to the trailer?  Yeah, probably."

 

Curtis's baffled expression is almost enough to make him laugh.  Almost.  Between the two of them, but mostly due to Keith's tireless focus, the apartment is completely bare of Shiro's belongings in an hour.  Curtis offers to help carry a wayward box or two once, but is quickly halted by Keith's short, "We've got this, Curtis."  Something about the way Keith says it, so much emphasis on the  _we_  part, makes the tangle of jagged emotions in Shiro's chest loosen a bit.  The fact that this is the second time Keith's done this for him isn't lost on him.  It had been like that when he and Adam broke up too.  Shiro's damaged heart in his hands, humbled by Keith's willingness to roll his sleeves up and get to work, no questions asked and no thanks required.  His best friend was a force of nature in humanoid form.

 

"I think that's all," Shiro concludes after a final pass around the apartment.  "If you run across something I missed, just let me know.  I'll swing by and grab it."

 

"Of course, Takashi," Curtis assures him, looking more than a little overwhelmed at the speed of the move. 

 

Ah, but there was one thing he was forgetting, wasn't there?

 

"Here," Shiro says, pulling off his ring and placing to firmly into Curtis's palm.  "Let me know what else you need from me with regards to the paperwork."

 

He isn't imagining the misty look in Curtis's eyes as he stares at the ring.  "I will..."

 

"And Curtis?"  The other man looks up to meet his eyes.  "Don't feel like you can't keep in touch if you want to."  Just because they were going separate ways didn't delete the years of affection he had held for the man before him.

 

"Okay.  You too, Takashi."  Curtis sniffles pathetically, tries his best to keep a smile on his face.  "You know I don't regret it, right?  Us?"

 

A tear slides down his own face against his will.  He nods.  "I know, Curt.  Me neither."  Curtis wraps him in a tight hug before he can think to do the same.  His breath comes out as a sob.  "Thank you for everything."

 

It takes a few more moments of tearful whispers and holding one another before Shiro feels ready to leave.  The walk to the front door feels like someone else's dream.  Without the small effects of his belongings scattered through the apartment, the place he called home for the past two years feels foreign, cold, empty.  This space wasn't his anymore.  And so there was no reason to linger.  Shiro closes the front door behind him, locking it methodically, then leaving his key in the mailbox.  The clink it makes as it settles on the bottom makes him flinch.  Like slamming a book containing all the carefully written parts of his life since the war ended.  Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Shiro turned back to face Keith, who had been keeping a respectful distance out by the truck.  He knows what he must look like.  Bloodshot eyes, nose rubbed raw, skin blotchy from crying.  Whether its out of mercy or just because he doesn't feel the need to comment, Keith shows no sign of noticing.  They climb into Sam's truck, Keith in the driver's seat.  There's not enough energy left in his soul to argue with that choice.  Yes, Keith is undoubtedly exhausted. But trying to make any argument implying Shiro is less tired would be pointless, so Shiro doesn't attempt it.

 

As the apartment disappears in the rear view mirror, Shiro takes in a deep breath, then lets it out as slowly as he can.  When one door closes, another one opens, he reminds himself sternly.  It wouldn't be easy, but Keith's warm presence at his side was all the reassurance Shiro needed to know that he'd survive.

 

The most logical thing to do would have been to retreat to the Holt's for the rest of the day, get some actual sleep before piling back into Cherry Bomb for another ten hour journey.  One that Shiro is just realizing Keith only made half way before turning right back around and rushing to his aid.  His meager attempts to convince Keith to rest go unwarranted.  On the fourth refusal, Keith huffs out a frustrated sigh, and Shiro is struck by just how much this whole thing must have been weighing on Keith as well.  "I just...want to get you home, Shiro.  I'll stay on autopilot once we exit the wormhole if you really want me to, but let's just go home.  Okay?"

 

Oh.  That's a strange feeling.  In his emotionally ravaged state, Shiro has no defenses left to protect his heart from the rush of warmth in his chest.  Home.  Sitting in Sam Holt's beat up truck, driving toward the airport, intending to leave Earth and the city that had been his entire universe for the last three years easily should have negated that statement.  The mourning eating at his mind felt nothing like what he wanted to feel when heading "home".  Despite all those things, seeing the landing strip come into view, knowing Cherry Bomb was waiting for them in terminal 2A, he could let himself believe it.  It had nothing to do with the house they were undoubtedly retreating to on Daibazaal.  Shiro thinks as he watches Keith stare determinedly and dauntlessly forward that Keith could be dragging them to Arus, or Altea, or even a nameless swap moon, and he'd still feel like this.

 

Shiro is already home.

 

He doesn't voice that thought though.  Just closes his eyes and smiles unsteadily, "Yeah.  Let's go home."

 

Sleep rushes up to meet him as soon as his body settles into the co-pilot seat.  He's honestly not sure how long he passes out for.  What he does know is that when he wakes, head feeling like someone stuffed an entire bag of cotton balls into his ears, Romelle's blanket is draped snugly over him and Keith is fast asleep beside him.  The dashboard confirms that Cherry Bomb is handling their route for them, with only about an hour left in their journey.  A flush spreads over his cheeks, overwhelmed instantly by the knowledge that Keith paused in his methodical transfer of all of Shiro's belonging's to the cargo bay just to grab Shiro's favorite blanket and wrap him in it.  

 

He swears then, with only the dark, quiet of space and Keith's soft snores as witness, that he will spend the rest of his life trying to return the immense kindness Keith had bestowed upon him.  Not just today, or in the time after they had reunited, but ever since Shiro had crashed back to Earth in a Galran escape pod.  No, even further.  Since they had been dumb Garrison kids with only visions of grand adventures in space and determination to fuel their ambitions.  It's a promise Shiro should have made long ago.

 

He starts by arranging the blanket lovingly love Keith's prone form and switching CB over to co-pilot controls, muting all notifications that Keith might have set to wake him before they hit Daibazaal.  All things considered, his landing is smooth, but Keith has always been a light sleeper.  Seeing those sleep heavy violet eyes blink open saves Shiro from figuring out how he was going to carry Keith all the way back to the house at least.  Keith looks comically confused by having woken up swaddled in a blanket.  Shiro resists the urge to teases him, only keeps his voice low as he announces, "We're home."

 

There's something Shiro can't describe in Keith's eyes then.  He barely registers it before his friend is back in "fix it" mode and fetching a dolly to make their trip easier.  But, it was definitely there.  A sign that Keith is just as vulnerable to this whole thing as Shiro is.

 

They only bother bringing what Shiro should have access to immediately.  Everything else would be more than safe in Cherry Bomb's private hanger.  The nap definitely had helped.  Shiro could at least keep his eyes open without them burning endlessly.  It had also cracked his already damaged armor.  Being an ex-solider, he's accustomed to how the body reactions to an injury in the middle of a battle.  Pain becomes background noise to the violent, biological need to live.  But, once you are safe, when your brain finally let's your guard down, everything you had been hiding close to your chest pours out in a viscous flow.

 

That's exactly what happens the moment they cross the threshold of Keith's front door.  The first few tears are quiet, unstoppable leaks in the bottle he corked off so desperately.  Rather than try to fight them further, Shiro calls out in a sob for Keith, knees buckling.  They do not get a change to give out on him before he is swept up in a familiar embrace.  Keith draws Shiro's face down gently into the crease of his neck with a firm hand in his hair, allows their bodies to slump gracelessly to the floor of the living room.  It's uncomfortable at best, and Shiro's sure that once he regains the ability to speak coherent words, he will tell that to Keith so that they may at least stumble to someone's bed and collapse there for the night.  But for now, he holds onto Keith fiercely, cries shaking his body.

 

The particulars of that night are lost on him in retrospect.  They eventually move to Keith's room, where he becomes contently sandwiched between Keith and Kosmo, who had come in from his stroll somewhere in the middle of Shiro's first crying fit.  It had made Shiro smile tearfully when his obvious distress had made Kosmo whine and lick insistently at his face.  Throughout it all, Keith never once asks him what happened, but he would have to be blind to have missed the lack of the wedding ring on Shiro's finger.  He knows he doesn't  _need_  to tell Keith, but that doesn't mean he doesn't want to.  In the quiet shelter Keith's created for him in the cradle of his arms, Shiro whispers, "I'm getting divorced."

 

Keith's arms tighten around him, but he says nothing.

 

"It happened again," he whimpers, overcome with a fresh wave of tears.  "What's wrong with me?"

 

They're dark thoughts.  He knows it isn't his fault.  This wasn't anything like the situation with Adam.  The gaping wound in his chest doesn't recognize that, though.  Not yet.

 

"You married him in the middle of a huge life transition," Keith murmurs, fingernails scratching gently along the line of Shiro's neck idly.  "Don't blame yourself for moving on with your life, Shiro.  I get the feeling Curtis doesn't blame you either."

 

It's that thought, that his life and Curtis's simply turned down different paths, that soothes him to sleep.  He still feels like he was hit by a truck in the morning.  Keith makes no attempt to force him out of his bed, but doesn't hover either, leaving sometime in the early morning.  Krolia stops by later in the afternoon with lunch for the two of them and Shiro finally gets to admit that Hunk was right, Krolia is a damn good cook.  When he asks about Keith, she tells him that he tagged along with Zethrid and Ezor to resupply a Republic base.  She makes it clear to him without him having to ask that Keith would be back by evening. It brings a certain level of comfort to know that Krolia was just as willing to take care of Shiro at his low points.  He considered it a point of pride that he was so welcome in their small family.

 

Shiro eased back into life with the Blades slowly.  As much as he could appreciate the distraction it offered, Shiro also wanted to be able to put his all into every mission he went on.  It wasn't like he was entitled to them, after all.  He wasn't a Blade himself.  He was just Keith's guest in that life, as depressing as it seemed.  The idea that he might one day have to look elsewhere for work was a disappointing, but unavoidable truth.  No non-Galra had ever joined the Blades.  

 

Which was why when, after two months spent happily tagging along with Keith on his own missions, Kolivan summoned him to the headquarters alone, Shiro was expecting the worst.  Keith had been called away as part of a special mission that was Blade specific business.  There hadn't been too many of those in the time Shiro had spent on Daibazaal, but enough that he knew that the details could not be known to him.  This particular one had been sporadic.  Keith could be gone three days in a row one week, then not at all another.  So, seeing Keith standing beside his mother in Kolivan's audience chamber was somewhat surprising.

 

"You called for me, Kolivan?"

 

"Yes, Shiro.  I wanted to commend you for the work you've done with us these last few pheobs.  Your insight and battle expertise has been invaluable."

 

Shiro's eyesbrows shot up in surprise.  Praise from Kolivan was not to be taken lightly.  He offered the Marmoran leader a small bow.  "No thanks necessary.  I'm more than happy to help. I only wish I could do more."

 

"That, Shiro, is precisely why I've called you here."  Shiro's eyes met Keith's, unsure what he was supposed to be feeling.  Keith's face was schooled into a neutral disinterest, but the gleam in his eyes told Shiro he was excited about something.  "Keith's position in the Blades is one I don't take lightly.  He and Krolia are my left and right hand in our daily operations.  So, when both of the members who hold my ear and highest esteem request something of me, I tend to listen."  Kolivan activated a screen to Shiro's left containing three folders.  Mission descriptions from the look of it.  Shiro met Kolivan's eyes again, puzzled.  "Those three missions are the highest priority cases we have been made aware of.  Pick one, and I will appoint you the leader.  Should you complete it successfully, then we will induct you into our fold as an honorary Blade."

 

The words tumble senselessly in Shiro's overexcited mind for a minute.  He was pretty sure he had heard correctly, but just to make sure... "You would induct me, a human, into the Blade of Marmora?"  Kolivan nods firmly.  "I've already seen the trials, though.  And I have no Galra blood to awaken a luxite blade."

 

It is Krolia that replies to that concern.  "We have an alternative trial prepared for you, if you can earn it first.  What do you say, Shiro?"

 

Shiro stares at the digital files, anticipation boiling in his mind.  "Am I to complete this task alone?"  It wouldn't have surprised him if he were.  The Blades were fond of the theme of overcoming the unwinnable odds set against you.

 

To his surprise, Kolivan shook his head.  "No.  I mean for you to take leadership of this task, but I also want a way of monitoring your progress.  Keith will accompany you as your subordinate and will report back to me separately when you return."

 

Keith's eyes, filled with pride and excitement of his own, implored Shiro to accept this proposal.  Luckily for the two of them, it wasn't like the was any chance of him turning it down.  The three missions were variable in detail.  A seek and destroy order for an armed militia group, an escort mission for the leaders of a new planet hoping to join the Republic, and discovering the source the pollution of all bodies of water on the planet of Nemicrye.  The first two were undoubtedly important, but the file for the last one was extremely long.  The Blades were not the first group to be asked to fix this and the planet had been without usable water for over a year.  He effortlessly chose to go to Nemicrye. 

 

It wasn't the only surprise.  Kolivan had also arranged for him to have his own ship.  Dark as night with purple highlights, Shiro takes a page from Keith's book and names her Midnight.  Preparations went smoothly and soon Shiro had the chance to fly his new baby, Keith doing his best not to mock his enthusiasm.  To be honest, Shiro was still a ball of jumbled emotions.  This was beyond what Shiro even knew to dream for.  A chance to not only continue the work he thought was so necessary to the universe, but also to be recognized as the first ever purely human Blade.  Shiro was ecstatic.

 

He was also scared shitless.

 

The simple fact of the matter was this to Nemicrye was the first mission that Shiro himself had selected.  It was also the first where he would be held personally responsible for its success, or its failure.  So, yes, he was pretty nervous.  

 

It didn't escape Keith's watchful eye.  "Shiro if you grip that handle any harder, you're going to break it."

 

"Sorry. Just...lost in thought."

 

"You can say you're scared," Keith prods, using a cloth to wipe down his blade.  "I won't hold it against you.  You picked one hell of a first mission."

 

What he means is that he picked a mission that was potentially doomed from the beginning.  The file Kolivan had given him on the situation in Nemicrye was the product of three different attempts of the peace corp to restore clean water to the planet before getting the Blades involved.  The citizens of the planet had reported dozens of times that they suspected foul play.  No evidence of it had ever come to light though.  Where the situation stood now, the planet was a tier 4 supply stop, the highest of its kind.  Restoring clean water to Nemicrye would be a monumental victory, both due to the supplies it would free up and also for the well being of the planets in its system, who once relied on the lush gardens for food themselves.

 

It was definitely the path of most resistance, though.

 

"I just don't want to let them down, Keith."

 

"You wouldn't lose any of their respect for trying, if that's what you're worried about.  Kalu and Zuri are good people who know exactly how difficult of a task this is.  We'll have all the support they can give us."

 

Kalu was a name he was familiar with at the very least from the files he received.  The casual way Keith refers to the queen of Nemicrye strikes Shiro as a bit strange.  He had no idea who Zuri was, though.  "I wasn't aware you were so well acquainted with the Queen, Keith.  Got a story for me?"

 

Keith slouches a bit in his seat, rolling his eyes.  "Oh, trust me.  Zuri will tell you all about it when we get there."

 

Any story that can so easily ruffle Keith's feathers was definitely worth hearing.  Anticipation tempered his previous anxiety long enough for them to arrive.  Even from orbit, Shiro could visually tell that the planet had been hit with hard times.  Nemicrye had been among Coran's list of incredibly places definitely worth visiting if they could.  The Queensland had been renowned as one of the most beautiful locations in the universe for thousands of years.  Now, the gardens were withered and pale.  The fountains lay unusable.  Resolve flushed through Shiro's being.  He was going to fix this.

 

The reason for Keith's lack of formality toward the royalty of the planet was apparent the moment they were ushered into the throne room.

 

"Keith!" a dark skinned beauty cried joyously, leaping unabashedly into Keith's arms.

 

"Hello, Zuri," his friend chuckled, smiling wryly.  "Been awhile."

 

The woman pulled back, lovely face pulled into the most exaggerated pout Shiro had ever seen.  "I'll say!  I was beginning to think you brutes would leave us to die out here."  Glowing cyan eyes flew instantly to Shiro.  "Oh," she purred, a mischievous smile gracing the woman's face.  " _Hello_ there.  Keith you haven't introduced me to your friend."

 

A blush coated Shiro's cheeks instantly.  He was saved by a melodic voice from across the room.  "Zuri, love.  Let our guests come sit down a moment before you try to drag them to bed."

 

Ah.  Queen Kalu of Nemicrye was said to be just as beautiful as her realm.  The rumors were undoubtedly true.  She was a vision with pale, red tinted skin and flowing purple hair. She wasn't petite, wide shoulders and a full figure, but Shiro would have been hard pressed to find a physical flaw on her. The sheer confidence she held herself with, even just sitting on her throne, was captivating.  Zuri was no plain woman either.  Skinnier, with a very dark skin and hair tone, but mesmerizing blue-green eyes.  Shiro was suddenly thankful for how unapologetically gay he was.  It would be very easy to get in big trouble on this planet otherwise.

 

Shiro dropped into a bow as he approached the throne, smiling as warmly as he could.  "Your Highness, my name is Takashi Shirogane.  I represent the Blade of Marmora.  We thank you for your hospitality and have come to rid you of your water impurities."

 

For a moment the quiet in the throne room leaves him wondering if maybe he had done something wrong.  Maybe bowing was offensive in this court?  Kalu's shocked expression morphed into a loud belly laugh, echoed only by Zuri's from Keith's arm.  

 

"My my!" the Queen giggled.  "How polite!  Keith where ever did you find this one?  He's delightful."

 

"Shiro's an old friend, Kalu.  And he's right.  If we can do something about the water problem, we intend to."

 

Zuri gives Keith's arm a smack.  "Oh shush.  Always straight to business with you.  Don't you ever have fun, Keith?"  Something told Shiro Zuri's type of fun wasn't the kind Keith would be interested in.

 

Or, maybe not, he admitted sullenly, thinking back to the "funny story" Keith had yet to reveal.

 

"Nemicrye is honored to have your assistance, Shiro and Keith.  But, I am afraid my wife is correct.  The daylight is short and we are among friends.  And our allies on Mordoone just dropped off a few kegs of the most delicious wine I've ever tasted.  It would be remiss of me to not offer it to you.  Let us celebrate for tonight.  In the morn, all my resources shall be at your disposal for your mission."

 

He can hardly refuse such a kind offer.  One thing does stick in his mind, though.  "Wife?" he whispers to Keith when Kalu's waiting staff rush about to prepare a drawing room for them.

 

Zuri, unfortunately, has keen ears.  "Surprised, Shiro? Is my figure not pleasing enough to convince you that I am the princess consort of this land?"

 

"I'm pretty sure it's how relentlessly horny you are that's confusing, Zee," Keith chuckles.  His friend runs a comforting hand down his bicep.  "Nemicrytes are well known for their enthusiastic polyamory," he explains.  " _Most_  of them recognize when someone isn't interested though."  The statement is obviously a stab at Zuri.

 

The woman shrugs, thankfully not offended.  "Never hurts to ask.  After all, Axca played with me the last time you were here.  She just needed a little convincing."

 

Axca?  Sleeping with the princess consort of a planet they were assigned to protect?  Perhaps Shiro's understanding of Axca as a person needed a bit of revision.

 

Shiro wasn't the only one surprised by that development at least.  Keith sputters, crying, "You were pregnant the last time we were here!"

 

...a  _lot_  of revision.

 

The mention of her pregnancy lit Zuri's face alight with excitement.  "Oh, that's right!  You haven't seen Cahya since then!  Come, come.  It will take awhile to get the room set up anyway."  When she takes off down the hallway, Shiro shares an exasperated stare with Keith. The other man only shakes his head fondly and then follows the wayward princess.

 

"What exactly was it you and Axca were here for?"  Shiro's just having a hard time picturing it.  Axca had always come off as so serious and honor bound.  The idea of even Axca falling victim to the women of Nemicrye's whims make him worry about might or might not be lurking in the wine.

 

Keith sends him an amused smile as they climbed a flight of stairs.  "Not sexing up the princess consort, if that was what you were wondering.  Quite the opposite actually."

 

They turned a corner, spotting a haphazardly thrown open door at the far end.  "There's an opposite of sex?  Anti-sex?  What does that even mean?"

 

Zuri laughs pleasantly from her spot by a bassinet, holding a small bundle in her arms.  "Child birth isn't the opposite of sex, Keith.  It's the direct result of it.  And a joyous one at that!  Shiro, meet my sun and stars, Cahya."

 

The babe is undoubtedly a mix of Zuri and Kalu, which is confusing, but Shiro learned in their time with Voltron that gender was a variable thing in other races.  She's a well tempered little thing, not at all bothered by her mother's loud affection.  Her eyes are a glorious violet, almost the same shade as Keith's oddly enough, if only a little brighter.  Cahya was utterly unconcerned with Shiro, but she immediately reaches her little arms out for Keith with a trill.

 

Shiro really would have expected Keith to be wary around children.  He's not entirely sure what fuels that expectation.  Keith tended to keep most people at arm's distance.  Kids are messier, more fragile people with little to no language comprehension, so they just seemed like it would be one of those things Keith avoided.  Evidently, Keith has no such qualms, accepting baby Cahya easily into his arms.  Everything about his posture changes when he holds the little girl.  He makes it look effortless, guiding her tiny head to his shoulder, supporting her bottom and back with his arms.  Without any prompting, he starts swaying back and forth slowly, rocking the babe soothingly.  

 

Zuri smiles at the sight.  "Ohh, look at that.  She definitely remembers you, Keith."

 

"I'm not sure why," Keith near whispers.  "She was a newborn.  And it's not like I helped much with her delivery."

 

Shiro blinks, the pieces of this puzzle finally coming together.  " _You_  delivered a baby?"

 

He's almost certain Keith blushes.  "It was mostly Axca."

 

"I went into labor early," Zuri explains, eyes endlessly fond as she gazes upon her child.  "We were due to get a shipment of water and medical supplies in a couple of days, but little Cahya decided that just wouldn't do.  Had to give mommy and mama a heart attack.  Keith and Axca answered Kalu's distress call immediately.  Good thing, too.  I might have been in trouble if they hadn't."

 

 It's a new element to Keith's work that he wasn't prepared for.  One he falls a bit in love with instantly, even though it didn't even happen to him.  Keith will always be welcomed in this castle, on this planet, in this family.  All because he dedicated his life to helping people who needed him.  This wasn't just a random act of kindness.  This was a relationship he had built for the rest of his natural life.  Cahya's remarkable calm in Keith's arms was proof enough of that.  

 

If only every mission could have been that way.

 

"I'm going to go check on my wifey.  You mind playing with Cahya a bit longer, Keith?"  Keith shook his head, resting his cheek lightly on the baby girl's head.  Without further pause, Zuri left them to it.  It almost surprised Shiro how trusting Zuri was that Keith would take care of her.  But, then again, looking at the way he held her, he really was a natural at it.

 

"It's a shame you don't plan to have any of your own."  Keith meets his eyes, not entirely sure what he was referring to.  Shiro gestures at the little life in his arms.  "Children, I mean.  You're so good with Cahya."

 

Smile softer than Shiro has ever seen it, Keith pressed a light kiss to Cahya's temple.  "Who ever said that?  I'm not against the idea."  Which is something Shiro also hadn't considered.  So much of what he knew about Keith's lifestyle right now was his love for travel and the freedom to change the universe in his own way.  It doesn't immediately click, Keith wanting children just doesn't match up with what he did for a living.  As if sensing his dilemma, Keith elaborates, "The universe is so much more stable than it was a couple of years ago, but it's still not a safe space for children."  Shiro immediately imagines the young boy laying in the streets, motionless and cold, murdered before his time in a fire fight they could have prevented a few months ago.  He nods, knowing exactly what Keith means.  "But, maybe one day, it will be. I'd like to be able to say I had contributed to that."

 

Wasn't that the sweetest reason to save the universe ever?  To make it safe for kids.  Shiro's dopey smile spread across his face before he could stop it.  Luckily, Keith had turned his back to him, bobbing up and down a bit to amuse the girl on his shoulder.  Cahya, curious little thing, was staring straight at him from this angle.  Shiro bent forward just enough to bring his face close to hers.

 

Cahya's wide eyes on his make her an easy target for his next words.  "Sounds like a good plan to me. I bet a certain Altean princess would have loved to see that happen.  Isn't that right, baby?"

 

Keith whirls around to face him, cheeks scarlet red.  “W-what did you say?”

 

Shiro blinks, unsure for a moment where the intense embarrassment on Keith’s face is even coming from.  Then, it dawns on him like a slap in the face.  Keith thought he was calling _him_  baby.   That…that he would be keeping in mind.  With a smirk, Shiro decides to let Keith suffer a bit.  “I was talking to the baby.  As in the tiny person currently drooling all over your shoulder?”

 

The spark of irritation in his eyes tells Shiro that Keith realizes his error now.  And also probably that he knows Shiro has no intention of letting that slip go unnoticed.  “Didn’t take you for the type that liked pet names,  _baby_.” 

 

“Shiro,” he grouses, bouncing a bit to amuse the child in his arms despite the acid in his voice, “if I wasn’t restrained by the laws of this land and this small child, I would murder you right now.”

 

“Of course you would, baby.  I have no doubt.”

 

“I hate you.”

 

Shiro laughs, “No you don’t.”

 

Their time with Cahya was cut short by Zuri returning to announce that it was time to head to the drawing room.  Shiro was almost hesitant to leave the sweet babe alone, but Keith reassured him that they would see her again.  Shiro promptly forgets all about how much he misses the little angel because the royalty of Nemicrye really know how to party.  At his age, Shiro was no spring chicken, but compared to a half Galra and these alien she-devils who can apparently metabolize alcohol into terrible jokes, he is a light weight.  A full glass of the "wine" they bring out nearly puts him on his ass.  At least, he can be decently sure it's not spiked with some foreign aphrodisiac because no amount of inebriation causes sleeping with Kalu or Zuri to become more intriguing of an option.

 

Keith on the other hand...

 

Sober Shiro would have beat him over the head with a brick for the heady glances he's been sending at his friend for the last hour.  The weight of his separation with Curtis was no longer suffocating, sure, but it had still only been a couple of months.  Shiro knew himself better than to think his emotions would be completely sorted in such a short time.  And besides, Keith was his best friend and currently his housemate.  And their relationship had been so good lately, which still felt like a fragile thing to Shiro's anxiety prone mind.  Actually, Sober Shiro could have written a soliloquy about how much of a Bad Idea flirting with Keith while drunk was. 

 

Drunk Shiro, however, had eyes.

 

Eyes that focused intently on all the things his sober brain redirected his gaze from on a regular basis.  Like how sinfully tight the Blades uniform fit Keith, specifically around his ass.  Or how long his legs had become after his newest growth spurt, putting him only about an inch shorter than Shiro himself.  Or how well nice the contrast was between his undeniably feminine facial features, generous gifts from his stunning mother, and his lean, muscular figure.  He was overcome suddenly by an urge he hadn't had in awhile: he wanted to spar with Keith.  That used to be one of their favorite pass times, alongside hoverbike racing.  But, the incident with his evil clone trying to murder Keith in cold blood sort of made that option terrifying for Shiro.  He thinks he could manage it now.  If only to have an excuse to have those heavily muscled thighs wrapped around his neck, he could do it.

 

Ok, maybe even drunk off his ass Shiro could admit when he was getting too far ahead of himself.

 

Deciding to quit while he was ahead, Shiro bid a slurred goodnight to the assembled guests.  Keith offered to walk him back to his room, but he denied the offer.  The male attendant Keith had been chatting up before Shiro came over looked unambiguously relieved that Keith would be sticking around.  In the morning, Shiro would blame the flash of unjustified jealousy and anger he experienced on the wine.

 

It was always easier that way.

 

Luckily for his extremely hung over head, the Nemicrytes had not only perfected drinking, but also a potion to alleviate the side effects of drinking.  Within minutes of chugging the disgusting black concoction, Shiro's headache and lethargy were mostly gone.  All he needed was some breakfast and he would have been ready and eager to tackle their reason for being there in the first place.  The slight setback had come from Keith wandering downstairs dressed in a shirt that wasn't his and sporting the unmistakable evidence of a night of passion plastered all over his neck and collar.  It's a lot harder to blame his sour mood on the hangover when he knows damn well he doesn't have one anymore.

 

Perhaps Shiro's pettiness had actually been a blessing in disguise.  In avoiding thinking about the weird feelings he kept having for Keith, he ends up avoiding Keith.  And in avoiding Keith, he ends up hiding away in the royal accountant's library for most of the morning and into the afternoon.  Which is where he finds the first strange instance of a modified shipping manifest.  Which leads him to the discovery that every shipment of supplies by a particular dealer was edited after the transaction but before being filed.  And when Kalu's attendants are able to confiscate a private terminal with the original manifests, all it takes is the identification that the missing inventory item was Pylomarqizem, a product often used as insecticide that happened to be turned into a potent poison by some of the plants in the royal garden. The particular poison had matched exactly the impurities found in the water supplies.

 

Kalu's thrilled laughter when Shiro had marched into the throne room, announcing that he already had enough evidence for an arrest as well as several suggested counter measures, had felt wonderful.  It had paled in comparison to the flabbergasted shock on Keith's face though.  What had been expected to be a month long stay in Nemicrye had turned out to be only three days.  Kolivan maintains a stoic face when he relays how pleased he is with Shiro's progress, but Shiro knows better.  All he needed to do was take one look at the obvious pride and smug satisfaction on Krolia's face to know that in Kolivan's own way, he was praising Shiro.

 

The recognition feels good, but not as good as the newly cemented belief that he was made for this.

 

The ceremony for his honorary induction into the Blades is brief, but it is well attended.  He kneels before Krolia and Kolivan in front of a crowd of hundreds of Blades, Republic diplomats and various allies of their cause.  Shiro knows their presence isn't for his benefit; this was simply an unheard of occasion.  A human being welcomed by the most exclusive large, organized group of Galra in the universe was a sight to behold for sure.  Members of the crowd were likely trying to ascertain whether such feats would be possible for others as well, maybe even bring home the details of the still secretive rituals of the Blades.

 

They would have no such luck.  This moment was only a media performance.  The real ceremony had occurred the night before, in the inner sanctum of the Blades' headquarters.  It had been an intimate event, only Kolivan, Krolia, and Keith there to witness it.  It had unsurprisingly involved him fighting Kolivan for the privilege of standing among their noble order.  But, where he expected to stand alone, he found himself humbled by Keith preparing for battle at his side.  He would probably always remember the confident eloquence in Keith's voice as he declared, "I, Keith Kogane, verify that this soul has proven himself worthy to join our ranks.  I offer my Galra blood willingly in support of his right of passage and humbly request entry to this trial as his kin.  Where I am weak, he is strong.  And where he is lacking, I vow to make up the difference."

 

Were he not immediately thrown into a brutal bout against one of the most skilled hand to hand fighters he had ever met, Shiro would have more time to focus on how much that had sounded like a wedding vow.

 

The blade hanging at his hip was not a true luxite blade.  It was mostly symbolic, but still a formidable weapon that he knew would cost many long hours getting his ass kicked by Keith before he had mastered it.  He was proud to wear it as a badge of his newfound position all the same.

 

It was somewhere after a recent solo supply run that he got the notification on his holopad that Curtis had been trying to get in contact with him.  It wasn't unheard of.  Most of their conversations were brief and divorce related, but they were still talking.  Which was more than he could have said for he and Adam after their breakup.  This time, however, his physical presence was required.

 

"I'm sorry, Takashi," Curtis grumbled to him at the small cafe they walked to after concluding their business with the lawyer's office.  "I know it's inconvenient to come all this way just to sign a piece of paper.  I tried to convince Mr. Becker to let you sign electronically, but he insisted."

 

"It's fine, Curtis.  That was the final version right?  After this..."

 

Curtis looked up at him, smiling sadly.  "It's official.  We're no longer married."

 

It's bittersweet.  Wonderful because with that out of the way, both he and Curtis could just move on with their lives.  Also sad, because Shiro still cared for the man in front of him.  Not the same way as before certainly.  Still, it was enough that he wanted to do all he could to ensure that they could still be friends.  "So, tell me about what's been going on with you," he pleads.  And Curtis does.

 

There were only two lymph nodes effected by the cancer.  The chemotherapy Curtis needed, therefore, was much less systemic and debilitating than it could have been.  Curtis still looked like hell.  His skin had lost its sheen and he appeared exhausted.  But, his hair was still thick and he could still make it through a work week for the most part.  Mycah had taken it upon himself to become Curtis's bed nurse, even abandoning his own apartment to move in with Curtis.  Shiro's sly smirk at that information was met only with a scoff and promise that if that sort of thing was even on the table it would be awhile before Curtis felt well enough to do anything about it.  Still, he was actually happy to hear that everything was going about as well as it could, considering Curtis had fucking cancer.

 

“Any news with you and Keith?”

 

That one threw Shiro for a loop.  Curtis was hiding a smirk of his own in his mug, which dispelled all hope Shiro had that the question was innocent in nature.  “Me and Keith?  What news were you expecting?”

 

"Don't play dumb, Takashi.  You're not going to hurt me by telling me something I already know.  I want details."

 

Narrowing his eyes, Shiro frowned, "Well, might want to check your information then.  There's nothing going on.  We live together and work together and he's still my best friend.  End of story."

 

For a moment, Curtis almost looks sad.  Which was terribly confusing.  The other man bit at his lip for a minute, before posing a question.  "What's your ideal relationship, Takashi?  Has it changed?"

 

Where had that come from? Was this what they were doing now? Gossiping over ideal romances after signing their divorce papers?  Shiro sighed, "Curtis..."

 

"Just answer the question," he quipped, snagging another pastry from the box between them.

 

Fine.  His eyebrow twitched, annoyed, but he forced himself to think on the inquiry with a pout.  Nothing had really changed in terms of what he wanted.  It was just the stage of life he was in that was different now.  Standing by his side a year ago had meant forging a life with him on Earth.  Now, it meant restoring hope and peace to the galaxy one system at a time.  Quite the dynamic shift, one that much harder to live with, but all he wanted out of anyone was still just someone to walk next to, and maybe lean on sometimes.

 

He told Curtis as much.  "I don't know, Curtis.  It's not like I've changed that much since...well, since."  Curtis nodded, understanding what he meant.  "I still think love is best expressed through joining in one another's journey.  Tackling tomorrow with your greatest ally by your side.  But, if our marriage taught me anything, I guess it would be that sometimes the people who are perfect for chapter A of that journey, may not be suited for chapter B as well.  I really don't know if I could find someone that would stand by my side through everything, but I'd like to think he exists somewhere.  Someone who would share my love for space, not shy away from my faults, someone I could go from fighting for my life with to just...existing in the same room."  A familiar warmth gathers in his chest at the imagery. 

 

And is promptly doused by the deadpan stare on Curtis's face.  Sighing through his nose, Curtis shook his head.  “Takashi, I’m only saying this because I still care for you and your general happiness.  Get your head out of your ass.”

 

“What?!”

 

“You’re not making a generalization, Shiro.  That person you're describing has a  _name_.  And I'm certain you know it because every single conversation we had for months involved him once you actually worked up to courage to talk to him again.”

 

He opens his mouth to retaliate against such an outrageous accusation and then...thinks about it for a minute.

 

Because there was someone who had his back through thick and thin.  Someone who loved space and helping the people of the universe enough that it reaffirmed Shiro's own passion for it.  Someone who frequently, almost every day in fact, went from Shiro's partner on even the most dangerous missions, to a fellow potato on the couch they had finally gotten around to buying for the living room.  A man who was all that he just described and so so so much more also.

 

_Oh, quiznak_.

 

Judging by the cocky smirk on Curtis's lips, he knew exactly what was going through Shiro's mind.  Snapping his mouth closed, Shiro huffed.  Damnit.  This was not the sort of revelation he wanted to be having now of all times.

 

"I, um...I need to..." Shiro floundered for an excuse that was good enough to free him from this absolute disaster of a conversation.  Curtis, content with himself evidently, graciously let him go.

 

"If you don't believe me, you know there's someone else right here on Earth that might have some good insight for you.  And last I heard from Matt, she was pretty unhappy you hadn't visited lately."

 

Colleen Holt.  Of course.

 

"Thanks, Curtis," Shiro smiled, gathering his things.  "Keep in touch!  And please feel free to try a dose of your own medicine once in awhile."

 

Shiro was met with a middle finger for his trouble.

 

If he was going to be headed to the Holt's, it meant that he was not only staying for dinner, but also that he was staying the night.  Colleen Holt was not in fact his mother, but she did her damnedest to try to act like it.  For the most part, it was charming.  In another way, Shiro finally understood why Katie had wasted no time flat moving out of her mother's reach.  But, if he wasn't leaving Earth today, he didn't want Keith to worry.  His message that he'd be delayed was answered immediately by a call, despite how late it must have been on Daibazaal.

 

"Are you okay?"

 

Of course that was his first question.  Not if everything was okay, no.  Keith didn't often care about everything.  Just Shiro.

 

Oh, boy.  He was in trouble wasn't he?

 

"Uh, yeah, Keith.  I'm good.  Curtis and I chatted for awhile at the cafe on 45th, then I realized I hadn't seen Sam or Col in a while.  Figured I owed them a visit."

 

Ever the expert in translating Shiro's behaviors, Keith's voice was dripping with suspicion.  "Did you need to ask them something?  You usually don't just drop into a visit with them with no forethought."

 

Shit.  "Uh, yeah, but it's nothing too important.  Nothing to worry over."  Shiro winced before the words were even out of his mouth.  Ever since their conversation at the diner, Shiro had made it his personal policy to not withhold information from Keith if he asked.  No matter how trivial or important.  After all, back in their days of fighting the Galra, before Shiro had died in the battle against Zarkon, they had reached a stage where they could have told each other anything without judgement.  It had been an extreme comfort to Shiro, who was still carrying so much mental scarring from his time in prison.  It had been even more welcomed by Keith, who had only just learned he himself was part Galra.  The sudden shift from open book to information selective would have seemed weird to anyone.

 

Keith sounded so gutted when he sighed, "You're hiding something from me."   It's not a question.  He already knows.

 

"I...am."  There was no use in hiding it.  Not from Keith.  "But, I promise I will talk to you about it.  I just...want to figure out what I even have to say about it first.  Does that seem fair to you?"

 

"Wasn't that the reason we stopped talking in the first place?  Because you spent so long figuring out what to say about the fight between the clone and me?"

 

He wasn't wrong.  Shiro took a breath to steady himself.  "You're right.  You're absolutely right.  But, I also know exactly how miserable it was that I ever let it get that bad.  I really do need to think on this one for a bit, though, Keith.  It's...it's important."  Keith didn't respond.  "Can you trust me on this?"

 

It took him a minute, but finally there was a quiet, "Yeah, Shiro.  I trust you."

 

Shiro smiled.  "Thank you, Keith.  I'll message you when I'm leaving Earth tomorrow."

 

Shiro wasn't stupid.  He knew how scared Keith probably was that he was toeing a line so close to what had already put a wedge between them once.  No matter how stable and wonderful their relationship had been lately, he knew better than to think Keith's offer of "one more chance" was anything more or less than that.  He couldn't mess this up.

 

But, dragging Keith into a conversation about  _possibly having romantic feelings for him_ without proper planning was definitely going to screw everything up.  Especially because they hadn't fully worked through question of whether or not Keith had had feelings for him in that way or not.  They hadn't even vaguely talked about it.  Which, no matter what way this went, they would have to.

 

Shiro marched up to the front door of the Holt family home as a man on a mission.  This conversation was going to be embarrassing, difficult, and maybe shave a couple years off his life.  He would happily make the sacrifice if it meant "pulling his head out of his ass" as Curtis so lovingly put it.

 

He shouldn't have been surprised when Colleen took one look at him and whistled.  "Oh, boy.  I've seen that face before.  Come on in then, Shiro.  We can go sit on the back porch and I'll help you untangle whatever's rattling around in that brain of yours before Sam gets home."

 

It takes him the better part of an hour to describe everything in detail.  And he does go into detail.  The way he and Curtis started fighting more often before he even met up with Keith again, going to space again, the Blades, and the divorce.  By the time he finally gets around to Curtis's comment to him today, he feels like his head may explode.  “I don’t get it, Col.  It’s Keith we’re talking about here.  I’ve known him since he was fifteen.  Isn’t that…wrong?”

 

Colleen hums from her very comfortable looking rocking chair.  “Well, you tell me.  Is Keith the same person he was when he was 15?”

 

"No, of course not, but..."

 

"And are you the same person you were at 21?" Her voice is pointed, there was no sense in trying to talk over her.  Shiro sighed and relaxed back into his chair.

 

"No.  Definitely not."  Sometimes, he wishes he were.  But that ship sailed long ago for all of them.

 

Colleen nods, smiling at him gently.  "The way we see people changes, sweety.  It’s how life is supposed to happen.  You and Adam were so much more abnormal than either of you realized, Shiro.  You spent how many years happily together after having known each other for what, a month before you actually started dating? The best relationships are rooted in strong friendships.  Which means you see them as your friend _before_ you see them as your partner."

 

That much, Shiro can appreciate.  In a way, its what he blames his failed relationship with Curtis on.  He doesn't go into that one though.  "But, Col, that's just it.  I don't know if I see Keith like that.  He's always just been this unmovable force.  Sticking right by me at all times, so long as I let him.  And I do love him, don't get me wrong.  He's easily the most important person in my life.  But, I don’t feel for Keith like I did for Adam or Curtis.  The heart pounding in my chest, can’t stop thinking about them sort of thing.  That’s not how it is with him at all."

 

"What is it like, then?"

 

Were there even words for the undefinable space Keith filled in Shiro's life?  Keith had started as someone Shiro was excited to see grow, became an invaluable friend and confidant, evolved into a pillar of comfort and awe for Shiro.  He wasn't like anyone else Shiro knew, he had nothing to compare Keith to.  No, he didn't feel that butterflies in his stomach feeling when Keith was around.  Most of the time, he just felt more grounded.  Like if he suddenly turned the corner into a hail of laser fire, he would be safer for having Keith around.  It wasn't even just a feeling he had, it was blatantly true.  A security Keith earned through his repeated actions. And yet, there were some times, like during the party on Nemicrye, or sky surfing on Eaherene, where he did see Keith in a different light.  A softer, more intimate view.  One Shiro could confidently say he was the only one to see.  Which made him  _happy_.  He liked knowing Keith better than anyone else.  He even got jealous when that wasn't true occasionally.  But was that romantic love?  Or just their own weird brand of friendship that overcame time, space and death? 

 

"I just...don’t know how to describe it."

 

Colleen spared him having to make the attempt.  "Let me tell you something and then you tell me whether it sounds right to you."  Shiro nodded, watching her carefully.  "You know that feeling when you’ve spent all day around people and you’re emotionally exhausted? And all you want to do is have an hour to yourself.  Because being with other people means you need to put on a mask, which costs energy that you just don't have anymore." 

 

Shiro knows that one all too well.  Everyone in the Garrison had thought he was a social butterfly, but in reality, he was very introverted at times.  Even more so now when his PTSD lingered on the corner of every conversation.  Smiling, she continued, "But if  _he_  was in the room when you needed some time alone, it wouldn’t ruin it for you.  You'd still feel just as rested afterwards.  Because you’re completely yourself around him.  You wouldn’t feel the need to entertain him or even have to be talking or doing the same thing.  You could just...exist."

 

It was uncanny how well that matched up with what he had told Curtis.  Evaluating himself quickly he realized that was indeed true of him and Keith.  Shiro had spent some of the most vulnerable moments in his recent history with Keith and never felt like he had to put on a front.  "Yeah.  Yeah, that actually fits really well.  How did you know?"

 

"Because I wasn’t describing Keith, Shiro.  I was describing how I feel about Sam."  

 

Shiro's mouth fell open in surprise. "Oh."  

 

Colleen's smile was endlessly fond  "We’ve been married for almost thirty years now and I will let you in on a little secret: I very rarely feel like I have butterflies in my chest anymore.  Sometimes it happens, but it’s not all the time.  Mostly, he’s the person I want on my team at all times.  My partner in crime and the only man I’d trust to raise my children with me."  Staring him straight in the eye, she said her next words very firmly.  "Love doesn't just happen to you.  It's a choice, Shiro.  To spend your life together, no matter where your paths take you.  If you truly love someone, then no matter how far away you drift, you’ll always come back together.  And if you want my opinion, I think after what you guys have been through together, you're way passed the 'does he like me or doesn't he' phase.  Spend a little time imagining what it would be like to take that next step with Keith  I bet my bottom dollar it will be much easier to envision than you think."

 

Sam arriving home ends their conversation, but honestly, Shiro had heard all he really needed to.  Throughout dinner, he ponders over Sam and Colleen's dynamic.  Ever since he was a bright eyed and bushy tailed child, walking into the Garrison set on throwing himself into space at every available moment, he had been inspired by their relationship.  The more he thought about it, the more he saw that Colleen was right.  Their actions alone didn't scream that they were together.  Arguing playfully over Sam's choice of take out food, sitting an awkward three seats away from each other at the dinner table because Colleen wanted to put her feet up and Sam wanted to talk to Shiro.  That didn't say "we're completely and utterly in love" alone.  It was the small things.  The way Colleen ran a loving hand along Sam's shoulders as she passed his chair on the way to the sink.  How their expressions softened and they leaned into one another when they talked about how Matt and Katie were doing.  Even, much to Shiro's horror, the look in Sam's eye, swimming with intention, as Colleen told him she's set Shiro up in the  _downstairs_  bedroom.  

 

They loved each other at a level where they didn't need to make an effort to demonstrate it.  You could just tell.  That sort of love wasn't the type he had known with Adam or with Curtis.

 

There was probably only one man in the galaxy that knew him well enough for that.

 

Tomorrow, he'd fly back to Daibazaal.  He would spend some time following Colleen's advice and really picturing what it would be like to be with Keith that way.  He had to be absolutely sure that this wasn't just a passing fancy, or an emotional rebound after his collapsed marriage.  And then, no matter what conclusion he came to, he would tell Keith.  Shiro set a calendar notification for it, in fact.  Right on Keith's 28th birthday.  Maybe this whole train of thought would lead no where.

 

But, maybe, it would be the start of something incredible.  Shiro owed it to both of them to find out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was definitely NOT where I imagined ending this chapter. But, much like last chapter, I don't know how the hell this got so long. Rather than continue to drag it along, I decided to split it up a bit more. That means we MAY have six chapters now, or maybe five will just be REALLY long. Who knows.
> 
> I did make some somewhat controversial choices in my story telling this time. Giving Curtis some super bad illness was always my intention not because I hate him or want him to suffer, but because I thought it would give an added bit of prospective to how he was approaching the break up with Shiro. Shiro wasn't the only one going down a path that his partner would have difficulty following. And its also something I know Shiro would respect so much, having had a life changing disease himself. I apologize if that choice bothers anyone.
> 
> Next Chapter: Shiro gets his shit together (finally).


	5. After The Last Midtown Show

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When we met I was on my back,  
> I swear we spent most afternoons somewhere in the act.  
> We were part of something ours and ours alone.  
> Anywhere was home. We’re almost here again.  
> Right here, right now.
> 
> -After The Last Midtown Show by The Acadamy is…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's nothing I can show you that would accurately preview what this chapter is, aside from those lyrics. It's really a beautiful song. I definitely recommend giving it a listen.
> 
> Well, this is it folks. This is the end. I want to thank you all so much for coming on this journey with me. It's been an honor.
> 
> I will reiterate the tags for this fic include sexual content. That warning becomes relevant this chapter. Just a heads up. 
> 
> Hope y'all enjoy!

Shiro was exhausted.

His return to Daibazaal hadn’t been met with fanfare. Neither Krolia nor Kolivan questioned his slightly extended absence, merely welcoming him back with four mission files that needed to be completed urgently.  That was the unfortunate part of solving Nemicrye’s problems so efficiently: he was expected to be able to do it again.  It wasn’t that Shiro didn’t want that sort of responsibility.  Quite the opposite.  He was thrilled to have Kolivan’s trust so completely.  It did leave him very little time to breathe though.

And no time to follow through on his plans to evaluate his feelings for Keith.

Something must have been in the air lately, because the number of trigger-happy lunatics bold enough to assault ally planets of the Republic or the Blades had increased almost exponentially overnight.  That meant the Blades’ resources were spread thin, calling for the more capable members to go solo more often than not.  It dampened Shiro’s mood a bit.  Part of what he loved so much about his missions was knowing that come hell or high water, Keith would have his back.  And when their free time was so limited, he would have killed for any time with his best friend.

Duty called though.

They managed to slip away to the same system twice in a whole pheob.  The first time, they had tried to honor their new tradition of spending a day exploring the planet they were on before they left.  Stygia was a bleak place with a harsh environment, but the food stalls in the valley smelled amazing.  Maybe Shiro should have anticipated that street food from a planet covered in poisonous plant life would have been a huge risk to take.  Everything looks obvious in retrospect.  Luckily, Shiro himself wasn’t too poorly off.  A bit of an upset stomach, but nothing sinister.  Keith had not been so lucky.  Marvel of all marvels was it that the plants on the planet, which had been under the Empire’s heel for multiple thousands of years, had evolved to be toxic to Galra specifically.  Safe in the small room prepared for their stay, Shiro spent all night, sitting near the toilet, holding back Keith’s too long hair as he emptied his stomach viciously.  His poor body didn’t even recognize when there was nothing more to throw up, forcing retches from Keith until his body shook miserably.  It was gross, but Shiro wasn’t too bothered by it.  After all, Keith was obviously appreciative that he didn’t have to be alone, thanking Shiro often in his raspy, tired voice no matter how badly his throat hurt.  Shiro didn’t relay to his sick friend that this time was still ridiculously therapeutic.  That Shiro really meant it when he said he didn’t care what they did.  It was a drop in the bucket of the necessary feelings related pondering Shiro had to do before October.

The second job they performed together was by extreme necessity, rather than choice.  Shiro’s heart leapt into his throat when he saw the distress beacon from Keith’s holopad register on his dashboard.  He wasn’t sure Midnight had ever gone that fast before.  Evidently, Keith and Ezor had been investigating rumors that a local gang was planning a raid on the unarmed city of a recovery dwarf planet.  They had discovered that, yes, that was completely true.  And that “local gang” was a remnant of a platoon from the Empire infamous for their nasty habit of leaving a mutilated pile of bodies in their wake no matter where they went.  With a little over thirty men, Ezor and Keith had been overwhelmed quickly.  Shiro’s arrival on the scene definitely felt like a turning point, since he came at the battle from the outside, carving a path through the unsuspecting enemies who did not anticipate back up.  The one thought circling in his head over and over the entire time was _find Keith, find Keith._   The possibility of him being injured or worse let a bit of harsh savagery leak into his fighting style, going for the most painful way to disarm an enemy he could on reflex.

To his immense relief, as he charged into the base, he could see that both Ezor and Keith were still up and fighting.  A small twinge of heat went through him when he registered that Keith’s hair was tied in a braid rather than his normal ponytail.  It looked good, obviously Ezor’s work.  Shiro would have happily written it off as brief insanity, adrenaline mixed with relief that Keith was alive.  Except that when Keith finally laid eyes on him, the look of unmasked of elation he received made his heart beat just a little bit harder in his chest.  And when the enemies had finally been dispatched and Keith wasted no time flat flying into a fierce, grateful hug, Shiro found solace with his face buried in Keith’s sweaty hair.

Which, okay, Shiro could admit that Colleen was right.  That part of their relationship had been there for years and definitely skirted dangerously along the line between friends and something else. And no, the something else wasn’t terribly hard to imagine.  Given the amused and disgusted look on Ezor’s face, she probably wouldn’t have been too much more surprised if they had kissed, right there on the battlefield.  Shiro’s face burned when he realized just how appealing he found the idea. 

Just because Shiro could admit that his feelings for Keith weren’t entirely platonic, nor were they some new manifestation caused by his recent divorce, didn’t mean he had any clue how they hell he could go about bringing it up. He and Keith flew back to Daibazaal together, Ezor going off on her own to join Zethrid in finishing up her own mission.  The whole way back, while Keith tended to his laundry list of injuries, Shiro agonized over what it would take to pull off the conversation they’d need to have to even think about starting a romantic relationship.  There were a couple loose ends that Shiro wanted to tie up.  Another more honest discussion of the fight between Keith and Kuron, namely.  But, Shiro, secretly a romantic at heart, couldn’t imagine bringing _that_ up in any way that wouldn’t kill any warm and bubbly mood he tried to set up.  The location was hard to decide too.  Shiro spared a glance at Keith beside him, adorable pout on his face as he concentrated on wrapping his ankle.  Smiling a bit, he knew that if he was going to choose to pursue this, it had to be the last first time he would confess to someone.  He had to make it count.

It felt like too big a decision to tackle any time soon.

“What the hell has been up with this entire month?” Keith grunted, throwing himself face first onto their couch when they arrived home.  Shiro knew how exhausted he was.  They all were.  “I mean, seriously,” he continued, voice muffled by the couch cushions he was attempting to drown himself in.  “Did every asshole in the galaxy decide to go on some power-hungry venture all at the same time?  Is there a holiday or something I wasn’t aware of?  Be-a-Dick-a-palooza?  I need a vacation.”

Chuckling fondly to himself, Shiro nodded.  “It definitely was a bit more trouble than we’re used to getting.  But, we handled it well I think.  You and Ezor work together so much better these days.”  He jumped a bit at Keith’s loud, disgruntled groan in the couch, shaking his head at his friend’s childishness.  “Okay, fine, I’ll stop the leader talk.”

“ _Thank_ you.”

“But, I do think the vacation idea is a good one. Hey!  Why don’t we take a trip this weekend?  Just the two of us.  We could go Altea for awhile or something.  Or maybe invite Katie, Hunk, and Romelle to come along too?  I’m sure Lance would love the company.”  Especially since it was so close to the memorial.  The more Shiro thought about it, the more excited he was.  It had been so long since the whole group had spent time together.  And the last few times, he hadn’t really felt connected to them.  But, now that he was feeling more like himself, it would be fabulous to catch up.

Keith sat up slowly, looking almost bashful.  “Actually, I made plans to go back to Nemicrye for a few days.”

Shiro’s thoughts screeched to a halt.  Nemicrye.  Ever since the water problem had been solved, the planet’s tourism industry had started booming again. Kalu had been gracious enough to send both he and Keith frequent transmissions concerning the progress they were making in restoring their home.  Strictly speaking, there was no business-related reason any of them had to go the Nemicrye.  And if the reason for Keith’s visit wasn’t business…

…it was pleasure.  Maybe the one-night stand with that attendant from their visit hadn’t just been a one-night ordeal after all.  A weight dropped heavily and devastating into the pit of Shiro’s stomach.  He was too late.  “Oh.  Okay.”  He knew his voice was flat and prayed that Keith just thought he was disappointed.  No reason a completely platonic friend wouldn’t be a bit upset to have the wind taken out of his sails.

No evidence at all that Shiro’s heart was being slowly strangled.

“Is it?” Keith confirmed, face contorted with guilt.  “If you really want to go to Altea, I can…reschedule or something.  It’s not a huge deal.”

Part of him screams for him to agree.  Beg Keith to cancel rather than reschedule.  He had taken a while, but he was finally only a couple pages behind Keith.  He was catching up.  There was no way he could lose Keith now, not when he was so close.  Shiro bit his lips, eyes squeezing shut.  No, that was wrong.  It was jealous and petty and entitled.  Keith didn’t belong to him.  That wasn’t the sort of relationship he wanted with Keith.  If they were going to be together, they were going to be perfect equals.  It had to be what he and Keith _both_ wanted.  And that…was something he hadn’t considered before.

All this time, he had been so focused on whether _he_ could come to love Keith that he had never even considered that maybe Keith was no longer in love with him.

“Shiro,” Keith called to him, eyes searching his desperately.  “Do you want me to not go to Nemicrye?”  Something about the way he said it made the thorns wrapping around Shiro’s heart tighten.  It was such a loaded question.  His expression was far too interested in the answer to a question that was far too simple on the surface.  That wasn’t what he was asking.  But, the real question swimming in those violet eyes was terrifying.  Sure, Shiro could admit that it was something he actually wanted now.  But he hadn’t wanted to bring it up this way.  It wasn’t what Keith deserved.  It was too important a discussion to happen in such vague terms, impromptu, when they were both exhausted.

He wasn’t ready.  He was so scared that dropping this conversation now would slam that door shut before he had even explored it.  But, a half-baked confession only dragged to the light of day because Shiro was jealous?  That was cheap.

Mustering up the most genuine smile he could, Shiro shook his head.  “It’s okay.  You already said you would.  I’ll find something else to do.”

He could physically feel the shutters come down over Keith’s eyes. Keith’s walls slamming back into place was almost audible.  Shiro wasn’t imagining how off-put Keith sounded when he snapped, “Fine.  I’ll meet you on Earth for the memorial then.”

They retreated to their rooms, neither in the mood for awkwardly lingering in one another’s space.  It hurt, but Shiro felt conviction in his decision.  Shiro wasn’t so selfish as to believe that Keith would wait around on him forever, but he also knew that they would both never forgive themselves if they started something only for it to break apart.  Shiro wasn’t risking their friendship to his dumb emotions.  Even if that meant he and Keith would stay just friends for the rest of their lives.  Keith’s friendship was no consolation prize, it was the most valuable treasure Shiro had.

That didn’t mean he wasn’t planning to spend the next few days beating himself up over it though.

He went to Earth a bit earlier than he had originally planned.  It was partially that he was going insane cooped up on Daibazaal with no missions to occupy himself since he was technically on leave of absence.  Mostly, it was Matt and Katie showing up in spectacular fashion and physically dragging him into their ship.  Evidently, he wasn’t the only one mourning how little time they all spent together.  Coran, Romelle, Lance and Hunk were already at a small resort in California, eagerly awaiting the presence of their last two wayward friends.  The look on Katie’s face when he told her Keith was otherwise occupied tore him up a bit. 

Regardless of Keith’s marked absence, Shiro actually had a lot of fun spending the weekend with the gang.  Swimming and surfing the first day away and salsa dancing at Lance’s request one evening.  They even played Monsters & Mana again.  And this time, when Shiro resumed his clone’s infamous position as the paladin of the team, it felt right.  Like for the first time in a while, he was being true to himself again.  No matter how much the others bitched about it. They spent the last night in Coronado sitting around a bonfire, roasting marshmallows and swapping stories.  Shiro had just finished telling the others all about his induction into the Blades, when Lance brought up a rather interesting point.

“What is with the Galra and fighting stuff?  Was that always a thing or was it Zarkon that made that such a big deal?”

All eyes turned to Coran, the resident dinosaur of the group, since he was the only one who would actually know.  The older man’s bright smile made Shiro’s chest feel warm.  It wasn’t often that the paladins asked questions that would lead to a history lecture, but occasionally it was nice of them to.  Coran was extremely knowledgeable and loved to tell a good story.  The least they could do was indulge him every now and again.

“Actually, the Galra have always had that tradition!  The current day Galra were only formed because of a power split between rival tribes of their progenitor race, whose name has been lost to us for generations.  Since their entire culture was created from battle prowess, it was naturally built into every facet of their lives. Social status, the military, and even marriage!”

Shiro blinked.  “Marriage?”

“Well of course!  In the early days of their occupation of Daibazaal, soldiers very often left on deployments and died before they could return.  Only the strongest men and women lived long enough to have children, let alone raise them.  It became a right of passage that in order to enter into a bond with a mate, the suitor would need to defeat their closest living relative in combat.”

Hunk spit his drink out in surprise.  “What?!  You’d have to fight your partner’s parents?  That’s so harsh.”

Coran nodded sagely, stroking his chin.  “Harsh indeed.  But so is losing your mate.  After all, Galra mate for life.”

That wasn’t something Shiro had ever considered before, but he supposed it made sense.  The Galra even under the Empire’s rule were a terribly prideful race.  If they ever did find someone they wanted to spend their life with, it was understandable that they’d only allow themselves to be vulnerable enough to do it once.  Even more than that, having spent so much time with the Blades, Shiro had come to know just how loyal they were when they cared for one another.  Krolia had told him stories of her early days with the Blades, when many of her peers had joined up only because they owed Kolivan a life debt. 

“Sooo, does that mean that anyone looking to marry Keith would have to beat Krolia?”  Katie snickered her question, a bit tipsy on the wine she and Romelle had been sharing.

The group was silent for a moment, considering her words.  It hit them all at once that she was right.

Lance was naturally very tickled by that discovery.  “Holy shit!  No wonder Keith’s still single!”

“If it was someone he really liked, she would go easy on them, right?”  Hunk sounded hesitant in his question, like he himself didn’t believe it.  “I mean, right?  She’d have to be…”

“No.” Romelle declared, face comically serious.  “Krolia would never dishonor Keith or his spouse that way.  I highly doubt Keith would want to be with someone who didn’t take that sort of thing seriously anyway.”

“Too true, Romelle,” Coran nodded.  “It isn’t just proving that they would be a strong and capable mate.  It’s a demonstration that they would fight for their love.  To the Galra, nothing could be more romantic than proving that you would risk life and limb for your beloved.”

It wasn’t too long after that the group got tired out and headed back to their rooms at the resort.  All but Shiro, whose mind was obsessively playing that conversation on repeat.  Wandering aimlessly up and down the beach, letting the waves wash over his bare feet, Shiro considered seriously that he had fundamentally misunderstood something very very important about Keith.  Maybe he hadn’t been raised by the Galra, but in every right, Keith prioritized loyalty and dedication in a way most humans didn’t.  Back when they first met, Shiro had assumed that Keith’s deep-seated admiration of him was born from Shiro’s kindness.  He had been one of the first people to believe in Keith whole-heartedly since Keith’s father died.  To Shiro, that made perfect sense.

What if it hadn’t been that Shiro was kind, but that Shiro was willing to put his reputation on the line for Keith?  Thinking back, the moment the two of them truly clicked wasn’t when Shiro had secured Keith a spot at the Garrison.  It was after Keith had gotten into that first fight with James Griffin and Shiro had defended him.  Shiro had tried to hide from Keith how much trouble Shiro himself got into every time Keith ended up in detention or when his grades put him on probation once.  At the time, he had been trying to not stress Keith out.  Shiro’s pledge to never give up on Keith wasn’t just saying to the boy that Shiro would protect him…it was that Shiro would _fight_ for him.

And what had Keith done, from the very first moment Shiro landed back on Earth after his captivity?  When Zarkon had threatened to take Black from him, Keith had thrown himself into a fight with the most dangerous man in the universe.  When the beasts on the planet they were stranded on hunted an injured Shiro down, Keith had first piloted Black to fight them off.  Sendak, Kuron…Keith had even gotten up in Allura’s face, all in an effort to show Shiro that he reciprocated that pledge.  That he would fight for Shiro too. 

Shiro froze, breath escaping him in a weak wheeze.  If that was true, if that was how Keith showed his love…then Shiro had fucked up very very badly by letting him go to Nemicrye.  Shiro had been so concerned that he would be rushing into something he wasn’t prepared for, because he wouldn’t know what to _say_.  Never did it cross his mind that Keith wasn’t interested in what he had to say, but rather knowing that when something threatened their relationship, Shiro would put up a struggle.  Shiro had just let Keith go, without a _fight_.

Quiznak.

Shiro spent most of the night pondering his options with only the moon and the waves for company.  Romelle had scolded him for his stupid, reckless behavior when he had finally returned to the resort to pack for their small flight to the Garrison for the memorial.  Shiro didn’t try to argue.  It was stupid.  He was a sleep deprived, restless, anxious mess.  That was honestly just part of his character description these days, he argued, ordering a triple shot espresso at the hotel Starbucks before they left.  It suited him just fine, really, being so off kilter.  It lowered his inhibitions.  And with the crazy bullshit he had planned out in his caffeine high brain, he was going to need a little bit of instability in order to pull it off.  They had left shortly before dawn, so the sky was still dark when they landed.  Shiro recognized Cherry Bomb’s flawless sheen the minute they touched down and was hopping out of the ship before Matt had even killed the engine, much to the confusion of their friends.

He really wasn’t sure what he was expecting from Keith when he saw him.  Judging by the apathetic stare he got, Keith really was sore over the whole thing. Good. That would make this easier.

“Come with me,” he didn’t phrase it as a request.  It sort of wasn’t one.

Keith didn’t appreciate his tone, if his snarl meant anything.  “Excuse me?”

Shiro didn’t let it deter him.  “I need to talk to you.  So, come with me.”  He didn’t wait for an answer, taking off down the hall.  He couldn’t hide his pleased grin when he heard the clicking of Keith’s boots behind him.  A look over his shoulder confirmed that Keith was pissed, lived even, but curious enough that he was willing to follow him.  Or maybe he just wanted to wait until they were in a private space to rip Shiro a new one.

Either was fine with him.

Keith couldn’t hide the surprise on his face when Shiro stopped their journey in one of the gyms.  It was a familiar space.  They had spent many hours in a gym just like this one, pounding away at punching bags, dummies and even each other.  Shiro had always known the fire in Keith’s soul could sometimes only be tempered by a physical outlet.  In all honesty, Shiro’s “plan” wasn’t very impressive.  It was impulsive, foolish, and was definitely going to get him hurt.

The mix of fear and excitement was intoxicating.

“You said you wanted to talk,” Keith’s words were dagger, poison tipped and sharp.  “So _talk_.”

“I lied,” Shiro quipped, shrugging out of his jacket and throwing it to the floor.  He toed off his shoes next, chucking those across the room too.  “I didn’t bring you here to talk to you.”

Keith’s silent _then what the hell do you want_ didn’t need words for Shiro to get it.

Raising a hand, Shiro crocked two fingers twice in Keith’s direction.  “Fight me.”  It was really the only card Shiro had left to play.  Nothing he could have said would have had the weight he needed it to.  And there were some things words couldn’t convey.

He had a feeling Keith sort of needed to vent, also.  Two birds, one stone.

“Are you fucking crazy?” Keith cursed, nose scrunched up.  “We have to be at Allura’s memorial in a couple of hours, Shiro.  You really want to do this now?”

No.  If the universe worked exactly the way Shiro wanted it to, he would have evaluated his emotions from every possible angle, made plans A through Z for how to attack a proper conversation, and found the perfect moment to bring it up, somewhere they’d both be able to look upon fondly in retrospect.  But, life wasn’t like that.  _They_ weren’t like that.  Maybe there would never be a good time where Keith was concerned.  All he had was right now.  He was through waiting.

“That a no, Keith?”

Keith rose to the challenge beautifully, nearly ripping his jacket from his shoulders, circling Shiro with a savage look in his eyes.  The slight yellow color bleeding into the white of his sclera told him that he was absolutely right.  This was going to _hurt_.

Nothing ventured…

Keith didn’t make him wait long, lunging for him after their second pass.  The inertia of his tackle sends Shiro to the floor, but gives Shiro enough velocity to get his feet under Keith’s hips and kick him half-way across the room. Shiro can hear the air rush from Keith’s lungs as he lands hard on his back.  He knows better than to think that will stop him.  No sooner than he gets to his feet again, a closed fist is aimed straight at his jaw.  No matter how angry Keith is, this doesn’t go the same way it used to when they were young.  At 15, Keith’s fury made him reckless, defense full of holes and offense easy to read.  After years of being trained by the one of the most rigorous militia forces in the galaxy, anger fuels Keith, makes his focus sharper, movements faster.  He’s not sloppy.  He’s deadly.  And without the same kind of desperation running through his veins, Shiro can’t quite keep up.

It’s not that he’s going easy on him.  He really was trying.  At the point in Keith’s training when he fought Kuron, the two of them had been rather evenly matched.  Now, after Shiro was coming off of years of sitting on his ass whereas Keith hadn’t taken a break, that’s no longer true.  For the first time ever, Shiro’s doing all he can just to keep his defenses up. Within minutes, Shiro’s covered in bruises, bottom lip split, jaw aching.  And Keith?  Keith is drenched in sweat and a bit scrapped up from grappling Shiro, only a bit worse for wear.  They’re mismatched.

It takes him several more scuffles to figure it out, but after Shiro fails to block a particularly savage kick to the ribs, Keith finally pins him roughly, pulling his torso off the floor by the collar of his shirt, “What the hell are you doing?!”

The breath hadn’t quite returned to his lungs yet, so his voice is raspy when he replies. “Putting up a fight for once.”

Eyebrow quirked, teeth bared, Keith scoffs back at him.  “No, you _aren’t_.”  Keith knows Shiro well enough to know that he’s not pulling his punches, though.  There’s not accusation in those eyes, only frustration and confusion.  It must be the self-satisfied smirk on his face that tips Keith off.  Shiro watches Keith start to realize that Shiro wasn’t speaking literally.  The grip on his shirt lessens, but Keith maintains his pin on Shiro’s legs.  “What is this even _about_ , Shiro?”

“I should have asked you not to go to Nemicrye.”  Keith’s eyes widen.  “I didn’t get it before, what you meant.  But now I do.”

“Get what?  What’s there even to get?”  He doesn’t mean it.  The tremor in his voice was enough for Shiro to know his words were hitting the right cords.

He presses on.  “I didn’t fight for you.  Not like you wanted me to.  I should have.”

Keith licks his lips, leans back a bit.  The yellow has faded from his eyes, anger bleeding out into mild panic.  “What do you mean?”  The way he says it is slow, voice very low.  It’s a dare more than a question.  Shiro takes a deep breath and meets him halfway.

“After the fight with Kuron, when I first woke up.  The way you looked at me threw me off.  It looked like…” Shiro laughs breathlessly, humorlessly, staring up at Keith with a helpless sort of expression.  “It looked like you were in love with me.”  That was the only way he knew how to explain that soft eyed, intimate gaze.  It had unsettled him so completely back then.  It was a weight Shiro just didn’t know how to deal with.  So he ran.

Keith’s mouth worked soundlessly for a moment.  His body trembled a bit from his spot straddling Shiro’s thighs.  No matter how off center his appearance was, when he spoke, it was full of conviction. “I was.”

It’s as if Keith had punched him in the solar plexus.  The breath rushes out of him all at once.  The only thing he still needed to confirm was… “Like a brother?”

It takes him a minute. Keith’s eyes search for something in his own.  Whatever he finds, it seems to be enough.  “…no.  Not like a brother.”

Shiro’s answering smile was weak, vulnerable.  As if he didn’t know what else to do with his face.  “I was so scared, Keith,” he admits.  “Terrified that I’d end up doing the wrong thing and losing you.”

“You _did_ lose me, Shiro,” Keith reminds him, a tinge of hurried desperation gripping him.  “You pushed and pushed me away until I got the hint.  And then asked me to watch you marry some guy you just met.”

Shiro ignores the stab at Curtis.  It wasn’t important.  Not anymore.  “Yeah.  I did.  And I never want to lose you again.  Ever.”

Shiro’s never seen Keith look so lost before.  Every twitch of his body looks like he’s gearing up to run.  There’s no option for him to ease off now, though.  They were tumbling down this hill already.  One way or another, they’d find out what was at the bottom.  Eyes shining with frustrated tears, Keith nearly whispers, “What do you want from me, Shiro?”

Ignoring the burning protest of his ribcage, Shiro sits up, hands coming up to catch Keith at the elbow before he can scurry away.  It’s a real fear.  The violet eyes Shiro adored so much flickered frantically across Shiro’s face.  He stays put, likely only due to how petrified Shiro looks in return.  Shiro’s left hand runs, shaking, up Keith’s arm, gently cupping his right cheek.  Keith’s breath comes out in a whimper when Shiro’s thumb traces the scar there.

Keith’s words come out in a rush, anticipating Shiro’s own.  They’re barely a whisper.  “Don’t.  Not if you don’t mean it.  Shiro, please, I…” He bits his trembling bottom lip, eyes glassy.  “I wouldn’t survive it.  I couldn’t go back, not ever.”

Shiro knows that.  It was why he had wanted to be so careful about this in the first place.  But, a wise man had once told him if he kept worrying about all the things that could go wrong, he’d miss the chance to do something great.  There was no doubt in Shiro’s mind where this would end up.  Not anymore.  Everything he needed to know was right there, in Keith’s expression.  By themselves, neither of them would be able to carry this weight.  Their history was complicated, their relationship nuanced and immense.  It was their port in the storm, and sometimes it would be the storm itself.  But, Shiro wouldn’t be alone.  The very fact that Keith hadn’t given into his natural urge to flee and lick his wounds meant he would still be there when the ground was ripped out from beneath their feet. 

He thought back to Keith’s vow at his induction.  When one of them simply wasn’t enough, the other would make up the difference.

Raising the other hand to cradle Keith’s face, Shiro let his own tears run gently down his cheeks.  His smile was wobbly, but his words came out clearly.  “I’m willing to fight for it if you are, partner.”  Keith sobbed, face crumpling as he finally stopped fighting the emotions pouring from his chest.  Shiro used his thumbs to wipe the tears gently from his face.  “I love you, Keith,” he croaked.

That’s all the invitation Keith needs to wrap his own arms around Shiro’s shoulders and press a desperate kiss to his lips.  It’s a mess.  Full of salty tears and blood from the cut on Shiro’s lip reopening.  It’s probably the best kiss Shiro ever had.  There’s no fireworks.  No butterflies either.  But, it feels so right.  The warmth that spreads through him isn’t lust.  Not quite.  It stirs Shiro in a different way.  Like easing into a warm bath, or crawling into his bed after a long, stressful day.  It’s coming home.   Shivers explode across his shoulders when Keith’s hand slip from his back and into his hair, nails dragging deliciously across his scalp.  Shiro sighs into their kiss, lips parting to let Keith into him.  The first brush of Keith’s tongue on his does light a fire in his navel, but it’s so secondary.  Shiro has all he needs right here, nose brushing Keith’s cheek as he deepens their kiss to explore the roof of his mouth.

When Shiro’s back starts to tremble from holding himself upright so long, Keith pushes him down gently.  The motion breaks their kiss just long enough for Shiro’s eyes to slide open.  He finds Keith already watching him, purple irises alight with so much awe and affection, Shiro blushes under the scrutiny.  Shiro wonders vaguely if Keith ever closed his eyes at all, decides to find out as he guides Keith back to meet him once more.  The second kiss is somehow more agonizing than the first.  Not only because it builds faster, which was certainly true, but because Keith _hadn’t_ closed his eyes.  Shiro had never met anyone who didn’t close their eyes when they kissed, but suddenly, he never wanted to ever again.  If he thought it was overwhelming to have Keith look at him before, now it threatens to ruin Shiro completely.

No.  Not ruin.  Running a hand through Keith’s hair, rejoicing in the way Keith’s eyes lost focus when he tugged on it just a bit, Shiro knew Keith loving him could only make him more put together. He had not been incomplete before Keith, but together, their jagged edges fit together to make something beautiful.  Their kisses trail off slowly.  Keith’s hair is a mess and Shiro can only image how he looks, having been wrecked both by Keith’s fists and his smoldering kisses.  The smile on Keith’s face is endlessly fond when he brushes Shiro’s forelock off his forehead and sighs, “I love you.”

They really did need to be going.  It would have been incredibly rude for them to be late to their dearly beloved friend’s memorial.  But, Shiro reasons that Allura surely would have been happy for them. So, he rolls them over and kisses Keith once more.  The last one, then they’d go.  Keith draws three more “last” kisses from him, planting a few enthusiastic ones to Shiro’s neck, before they actually manage to get off the floor.

The looks their friends give them as they arrive, with less than a minute to spare, range from disapproving, to impressed, to amused.  There’s not a whole lot of explanation necessary.  He’s a hot mess of bruises, both from combative and romantic causes.  Shiro’s cheeks burn under the prying eyes of dozens of scandalized Garrison officials and memorial guests.  The weight of their stares is nothing compared to feeling of Keith’s hand held tightly in his own throughout the speeches.

They manage to steal a hoverbike away for a few hours before their customary dinner with the others.  Hunk slyly hands them a large picnic blanket, obviously thrilled by the new development.  Their usually spot, on the cliffs overlooking the desert below, is much the way Shiro remembers it.  The setting sun scatters off the sands just as beautifully as it always had, but it’s even more marvelous with his body reclined comfortably between Keith’s long legs, back against his chest.  He imagines Keith must feel guilty about the beating he had dealt out.  Being the physically larger man in most of his relationships, he often felt out of place as the little spoon, or the one being cuddled.  However, Shiro was vividly aware that Keith could certainly dead lift Shiro above his head, and thus that their size difference was irrelevant. He didn’t feel that same level of discomfort now.  Only peace.

“I didn’t have sex with him you know,” Keith says, unprompted.  Shiro blinks his eyes open, leaning his head back to watch Keith blush adorably.  “That guy, from the party that time.  We made out a bit.  And he spilled wine on my suit. So, I stole a shirt. But, I never slept with him.”

Oh. Ohhhh.

“Then…why did you go back to Nemicrye?”  His own face burns, realizing now that he had maybe overreacted.  A lot.

“Zuri and Kalu asked me if I wanted to be Cahya’s…god father I guess is the best translation for it.  I said yes.”

Shiro hums, distractedly. “So you didn’t go back to spend a hot weekend with your secret lover?”

“Didn’t even see him.  Was too busy babysitting,” Keith recounted, lips already curling up traitorously at the sides.

“And so the whole thing with me potentially asking you not to go…”

“Was just the two of us being entirely overdramatic?  Yeah.  But, truthfully, I kinda wanted you to get the wrong idea.  I was being super petty.”

“Ah.”

He’s not sure which one of them breaks first, but suddenly they’re laughing hard enough that it echoes through the canyon back at them.  The force of his laughter hurts his ribs like a bitch.  And he’s crying again, though for a different reason this time.  Keith fares no better, curled forward so that his forehead was resting on Shiro’s chest, making Shiro a delicious meal of all of Keith’s hair.  That makes him laugh too.

Keith’s hand is doing sinful things to Shiro’s scalp, gentle scratching motions nearly putting Shiro to sleep.  But, he thinks, this moment, when Keith’s rough edges have soften and their spot here in the desert grants them sanctuary from the business of restoring peace to the universe, couldn’t slip by without solidifying this.  This wonderous, brand new thing blooming in his heart, after having been only a bud for years.

“I wanna take you on a date.  A real one.  Soon.” The exhaustion was impossible to keep out of his voice.

Keith chuckles, leaning down a bit to gaze at Shiro’s blissed out expression.  “Why? It’s not like we have to get to know each other better or anything.”  He doesn’t sound dismissive, only curious.

“Gotta do this right, Keith,” he cracks an eye open to gaze blearily up at his beloved.  “Nice and slow.  Wanna make it last.  Forever.”

“We’ve spent years going slow,” Keith complains, small smile on his face.

Shiro whines, startling a laugh out of Keith.  “Please, baby?  For me?”

Shiro doesn’t have to have his eyes open to know how that effects Keith.  He feels the hand in his hair flinch, smirking a bit to himself.  Shiro had honestly never been one for pet names.  Never felt right to describe Adam or Curtis that way.  But this?  This was going to be fun.

Keith grumbles to himself for a moment, but eventually groans out, “Fiiine, but when we’re suffering from blue balls in a couple of months, know that you only have yourself to blame.”

Mm.  That was…a good point.  And knowing Keith he was going to make it very _hard_ for him to keep to the pace he wanted.  Ah well.  They’d cross that bridge when they _came_ to it.

They spend another few minutes just lounging in the cooling evening air.  Shiro thinks he asks Keith to not let him fall asleep, but it honestly might not have been words.  Keith only kisses his forehead in response. 

The dinner that night was just as filled with teasing as Shiro expected it to be.  But, it was all in good taste.  Katie was evidently the first to piece together that it was their conversation at the bonfire that sprung Shiro into action.  Which led to the inevitable reference to the very real possibility that Shiro would be the unlucky soul made to fight Krolia for Keith’s hand.  Keith’s response was to blush scarlet red, far too affected for anyone, even Shiro, to buy that his thoughts on that matter were entirely innocent.

Lance’s deadpan drawl spoke sufficiently for most people at the table.  “Only Keith would get all hot and bothered by the thought of his boyfriend fist fighting his mom for his honor.”

The word boyfriend brought a pout to Keith’s lips.  “Boyfriend sounds so childish.  Shiro’s my _partner_.”

The group’s resounding coo made Keith’s face a pretty red again, but not quite as much as Shiro’s whisper of “You can call me anything you want, _baby_.”

When they were finally back home on Daibazaal, Keith finally addressed that topic too, perched happily on Shiro’s lap with his bottom lip caught firmly between his teeth.  “One day,” he promised, pausing to run the length of his tongue across the shell of Shiro’s ear.  “I will successfully desensitize myself to that stupid pet name.  And then you’ll be powerless against me.”

Shiro had always strived to give as good as he got.  Gripping Keith’s ass tightly enough to make the man in his lap shudder and whimper, Shiro nuzzled the crook of Keith’s neck contently.  “Whatever you say, baby.”

Whatever fantasies he had about what it would be to date Keith like were nothing compared to the weird and wonderous reality of it.  It’s different than being his best friend, but it also wasn’t different at all.  They still had the same comfortable dynamic around one another.  They still tried to strike a balance between selecting missions they could do together and going on solo missions that fit their strengths.  And their mutual adventures were still a good mix of open-minded exploration and duty.  The main difference was that nothing would ever prepare him for how tactile Keith was when he wasn’t holding back.  It was like someone flipped a switch inside him, or set the “cuddle” dial Shiro didn’t even know existed in his brain to max.  The innocuous little touches they were so used to still existed but were accented by wandering hands and scathing hot kisses.  Keith was equally likely to hold him idly while they lounged on the couch watching old Bii-bo-bii reruns as he was to press him ruthlessly into it, hips grinding and tongue stealing the breath from Shiro’s lungs.  True to his prediction, Keith went to great lengths to remind him at all times that the barrier preventing them from taking their heated make out sessions to the next level was put there by Shiro.

It was just as frustrating as he expected it to be.

Especially when Shiro realized that Keith had no issue at all with public displays of affection.  He wasn’t inappropriate with them.  Just unconcerned with what other people thought.  The first time Keith had kissed him in front of Krolia and Kolivan, Shiro was certain he was about to be flayed alive.  Krolia instead swept him into a tight hug, proud smile wide on her face.  And maybe she whispered into his ear that he owed her a fight.  And maybe he spent the next two weeks training relentlessly and taking only missions that would involve starting or finishing some sort of dispute. Which might have made Keith an even hornier mess than he was on a regular basis, just knowing the Shiro was putting that sort of effort into proving himself worthy of Keith to his beloved mother.  The devil was in the details.

The important part was that when they did have their match, Keith and Kolivan watching on with keen interest from the sidelines, it ended in a draw.  Which was honestly the best result Shiro could have hoped for.  Krolia gave him her enthusiastic and hard-fought approval to court Keith. And Keith forced him to break his self-imposed rule against getting too caught up in their grinding sessions, spending the rest of the evening showing Shiro just how much he appreciated his efforts to win his mother’s support. Shiro hadn’t finished in his own pants since he was a teenager, but he found that he didn’t mind as much when Keith followed him over the edge, Shiro’s name breathy and tantalizing on his slack lips.  It made him itch to take it further.

Shiro hated his own moral righteousness sometimes.

The knowledge that Keith was unabashedly attracted to Shiro and very obviously wanted to have sex with him was an exciting prospect, but it wasn’t nearly the highlight of their fledgling relationship.  Shiro had never seen Keith pursue a romantic or sexual partner.  He had no idea really what that would have even looked like.  No matter how long he and Keith had known each other, every single day felt like it brought a new piece of Keith’s personality out into the light.  Like that Keith adored having his hair played with.  Shiro did too, but this wasn’t quite the same thing.  Once, when Keith had settled content against his side after a bath, Shiro had tried to see if he couldn’t master the timeless art of French braiding.  Had even looked up a video.  The fingers of his prosthetic hand were clumsier and clunkier than likely necessary to do it well, but there was still something innately pleasant about running his fingers through Keith’s damp hair.  At first, Shiro didn’t even notice it, too engrossed in his work and the video.  Then, in the silence after the tutorial’s conclusion, he heard it.  A small rumbling.  He might have thought it was coming from outside if he couldn’t feel it against his leg where Keith was propped up.

“Keith,” he started, mirth dancing in his voice.  “Are you _purring_?”

The eyes that blinked open to meet his gaze were yellow rimmed, with slit-like pupils.  Keith’s teeth were undeniably lengthened into fangs when he yawned, nodding a bit.  “It feels nice.”

His partner was a giant house cat, Shiro decided fondly.  And he was going to use every excuse possible to make his more Galra features come out for reasons unrelated to the heat of battle.

One of the things that definitely didn’t change about their relationship was that they were both long term war veterans, who still lived a decently hazardous lifestyle.  Nightmares were a common event in their household.  As was the unaffected party crawling out of bed to comfort the other when they were particularly bad.  It wasn’t always completely welcome.  Keith still likely to handle some things alone.  After super bad dreams, he would demand a solo mission, stealing away into the night to convince himself that he was alive and that all was well.  Shiro had auras before his worst nights.  And when they came around, he would hole up in his room, not even venturing out to eat. 

They learned how best to support each other in those times.  For Keith, his greatest fears often involved Shiro being hurt, not Keith himself.  So, instead of flying off by himself, Shiro would come with him, but keep vigil in a “safe” location until Keith was absolutely sure the danger was gone.  It cost him little to let Keith “protect” him.  And the soft appreciation in Keith’s eyes when he returned to their rendezvous location to find Shiro still there, safe and sound, made any inconvenience firmly worth it. 

In Shiro’s case, the learning curve was much steeper.  Shiro still saw himself as a threat, worried that in his flashbacks, he would dissociate from reality just enough to warrant an attack against any living thing near him.  Keith included.  His partner started small, bringing him snacks and water during his aura, encouraging him to accept them without touching Shiro at all.  They worked up to Keith spending most of the aura with Shiro in his room, reading or writing reports.  A constant presence to dispel any worries that Keith wasn’t well.  It had been more comforting than Shiro expected it to be.  Keith insisted they try something else: Keith sleeping in the same bed as Shiro, but as far apart as they could manage during the bad nights.  It was a terrifying prospect, but Keith promised he would absolutely not come within striking range until Shiro said it was safe.  They used Keith’s bed, since it was larger.  When Shiro inevitably snapped up in bed, hyperventilating, world a mess of panic and blurred vision, he had almost forgotten Keith was there.  True to his word, despite how panicked Shiro looked, he made no attempt to move any close.  Instead, he hummed.  The gentle melody, something familiar that Shiro couldn’t quite drag up from his frazzled memories, made it easier for Shiro to piece together what was reality and what was dream.  Keith didn’t stop his rendition of a song Shiro now recognized, even when Shiro finally found the strength to lower himself into Keith’s welcoming arms.  Waking the next morning, curled contently around Keith’s sleeping form, was one of the sweetest victories Shiro had tasted in a long time.

After that, Shiro was hard pressed to find a good reason for them to sleep in separate beds.  It was endearing just how happy Keith had looked the first night Shiro came wandering into his room after his shower, asking if he could sleep there tonight.  No particular reason to aside from wanting to be close to Keith, even while asleep.  Even without a deep exhaustion to settle his body, Shiro often found himself content to fall into sleep with Keith’s head tucked under his chin, or long, lithe body wrapped around his back.  Sometimes, he still couldn’t manage it, anxiety getting the better of him.  Keith didn’t argue, perfectly content to cocoon himself in a blanket to prevent any wandering limbs in the middle of the night.  Most often, Shiro simply called Kosmo to sleep between them, so that Keith could still cuddle with someone, even if it wasn’t him.

Sharing a bed with Keith has another somewhat predictable side effect.  It was easy to rein his desire in when he had a private space to retreat to when Keith made it his life’s work to ruffle his feathers.  Keith knew that while Shiro still could escape to the guest room, he didn’t want to.  So, he pressed his advantage.  One night, after returning from a three day long dogfight with a group of pirates, with the adrenaline still very much pumping through their veins, Keith cornered him.  Their kisses had escalated so quickly, Shiro should have known Keith had something up his sleeve.  Or lack thereof, when his partner peeled the Blades body suit seductively down his body with a heavenly sigh.  The feel of Keith’s bare, sweaty skin under his flesh palm, hot mouth nibbling at his ear lobe and clever hand lingering on Shiro’s stomach, just low enough to be suggestive, was all too much.  “Shiro,” Keith near moaned in his ear after a deliberate press of the bulge in his boxers against Shiro’s thigh.  “Please.” 

Shiro wanted to cry.  That wasn’t fair. “Keith,” he replied, breathless and tortured.

“Let me,” he pleaded, mouth trailing licks and bites down the length of Shiro’s sensitive neck.  “I’ll make it so good, Shiro.”  He whispered the promise, violet eyes locked maddeningly on Shiro’s.  Shiro shivered, not doubting that for a second.  Keith’s hand closed around the zipper at the back of Shiro’s suit, thumb running along the edge of the cloth and Shiro’s skin teasingly.  “Please, Shiro.”  Keith hummed the request a hair’s length away from Shiro’s lips.  Shiro arched up with a whine, wanting Keith to kiss him.  His partner indulged him, but only for the briefest brush of their lips together.  Eyes glittering dangerously in the dim light of their bedroom, Keith went in for the kill shot.  “ _Takashi_.”

“Yes,” he growled in response, rolling them over and pinning Keith’s hips to the mattress in a firm grind.  The keen it drew from the man below him made him grin breathlessly.  Keith’s hands suddenly seem like they’re everywhere at once.  Yanking the zipper down his back and forcing the suit down to Shiro’s knees as if it offended him, nails trailing deliciously up the length of Shiro’s back, and calloused fingers closed finally over his length, wrenching a groan from Shiro’s throat.  The angle was awful, but it was a hand that wasn’t his.  A hand Shiro had been jerking himself off to the thought of for weeks.  It was everything.

Keith’s legs get some purchase against Shiro’s flimsy pin, knocking them onto their sides, kissing lazily as their hands coaxed small noises of pleasure from them.  It didn’t last all that long.  Not with Shiro as keyed up as he was.  It doesn’t surprise him terribly when his own orgasm is enough to send Keith trembling into euphoria as well.  If Keith looked a bit smug lying there panting beside him, Shiro doesn’t comment on it.

Keith doesn’t have to try very hard to convince him after that.  It’s not something they do every single night.  They’re both still quite happy to spend their evenings curled up in their bed, simply talking and enjoying each other’s company.  They just do it naked a lot more often.  Shiro still had some hang ups about his body image.  It wasn’t debilitating by any means.  Curtis didn’t even realize he had issues with it until about a month after they got married.  But, he had days where he wouldn’t remove his shirt no matter how much prompting he received.  Those times, his goal was to thoroughly distract his partner so they couldn’t focus on it.  That didn’t work with Keith.  It took every smidge of control Shiro had in him let Keith pull the shirt from his body and make no attempt to cover his scarred form.

“So gorgeous,” Keith sighed, that dopey, fond expression melting the tension in Shiro’s abs.  Keith painted his form in the proof of his love and devotion, bathing his scars in kisses, bites and feather light touches.  Shiro’s body threatened to shake apart at the seams, but his mind reminded him that even if the strings holding him together snapped, Keith’s loving arms would hold the pieces in place.  He let the heat of Keith’s eager mouth consume him, was unmade and reborn in the embers of Keith’s endless affection.  When his soul decided to inhabit his body once more, his eyes focused on Keith’s face staring up adoringly at him, cheek resting comfortably on his hip.  It should have felt a bit obscene to draw Keith up for a kiss.  He knew very intimately where that mouth had just been.

It only felt like bliss.

“Thank you,” he whispered, running his nose lovingly along the length of Keith’s jaw.

“I’ll do it as many times as it takes,” he vowed.

Shiro knew deep in his soul that was the absolute truth.

No matter how far he was willing to explore with Keith, the one wall he kept up was around the idea of full on penetrative sex.  No, none of their relationship progression thus far had felt rushed into or forced.  Every kiss and touch were provided only with enthusiastic consent from both parties.  It still felt so damn fast to Shiro.  Allura’s memorial, now held in special regard in their hearts for multiple reasons, had only been a month and a half ago.  It had only been five weeks before that that Shiro had even realized that he was in love with Keith.  Both his prior relationships had started swiftly.  He and Adam had gone from being classmates to being boyfriends over the course of a week.  It still had been half a year before they felt confident enough to sleep together in any capacity.  Similarly for Curtis, who he had married after only a year and change of dating, which was the epitome of rushing into something.  Yet, they had spent those first few months content with only kissing before moving onto the more serious part. 

It wasn’t that he wasn’t comfortable where they were.  It was that he had been comfortable with Adam and Curtis at the time as well.  And those relationships had crumbled pathetically at his feet.  Shiro was absolutely terrified that he and Keith would go down the same path.  Like a shooting star, gorgeous, life changing, and tragically short lived.

Keith met that worry with gentle disagreement, when Shiro finally mustered up the courage to whisper it to the darkness of their room one night.  Pressing a firm kiss to Shiro’s lips, Keith kept his voice low and soft when he shook his head.  “That has nothing to do with us, Shiro.  I _know_ you, Shiro. You’re the single person in the entire universe I want to share myself with like that.  That was true even before you told me you loved me back.” Shiro’s breath hitched at that knowledge, thinking distantly back to Coran’s quip about Galra mating for life.  When did Keith first realize it, Shiro wondered?  When had he turned to look at Shiro and seen the man he wanted to be with for the rest of eternity?  Shiro was honestly scared to know the answer.  Keith’s love was such a powerful thing.  He would be forever humbled to be the sole benefactor of it.

“Something about it went wrong though, Keith.  What if it happens to us too?”

“You’re thinking about it like a checklist,” Keith scolded without heat.  “Relationships don’t peak with sex.  At least not good ones.  It’s just sex, Shiro.  Would you love me any differently if I told you I wasn’t interested in that?”  Shiro thought for a moment, before shaking his head.  Of course not.  He was starting to see Keith’s point.  “Right.  It’s an activity.  Something we can do together, that we both might find fun.  We could have sex now, or in a year, or never, and I doubt it would ever really change anything.  Not if we didn’t want to let it.”  Shiro’s eyes glistened quietly in the dark.  With a caring smile, Keith pressed their foreheads together, wrapping Shiro in his arms.  “And, frankly, if you want my opinion, your other relationships didn’t work out because you guys weren’t on the same page. Adam didn’t choose to stand with you and you didn’t stand with Curtis.  It has nothing to do with propriety or order of operations.”

Shiro lets Keith’s faith in them fuel his next series of missions. He was absolutely correct about so many things, but his explanation had been a bit of an oversimplification.  Especially considering that Shiro was already aware that the Galra’s view on sex was a bit more nuanced than he was used to.  Keith might not have thought of sex as a milestone in their relationship, but his mother certainly would have.  It was a frightening prospect, speaking to Krolia about his intimate relationship with her son, but he felt that he had to.  If there was a custom or ceremony associated with it in the contemporary Galra culture, Shiro wanted to know.

Krolia definitely knew he was up to something when he asked to accompany her on a diplomatic venture.  She didn’t deny him though.  Their journey to Altea would take them a few hours, but it was time that Shiro could guarantee she could spend on him without disrupting any plans.  She and Kolivan were still horrendously busy.  Shiro rarely saw them anymore these days.

“Krolia?”

The woman chuckled fondly, “Finally decided to spit out, hmm?  Good then.  Let’s hear it.”

“Keith and I want to take the next step in our relationship.  Coran told me the Galra assign a lot of value to being mated.  I guess I just wanted to know what that should mean for Keith and me, if anything.”

Krolia was silent for a moment.  It felt like waiting for a guillotine to drop.  Finally, Krolia reached forward to put the ship on autopilot.  Shiro swallowed, doing his best not to hide how nervous he was.  Though, given that the Galra could smell emotions on people if they were close enough, Krolia undoubtedly knew.  When she finally spoke, her voice was faraway, melancholy.  “I never mated Keith’s father.  Not properly.”  Shiro blinked, watching her face turn wistful.  “He was human, had different customs.  I never even thought to bring it up to him.  Us being together was a choice.  That choice just included me never having been properly tied to him.  I was fine with that.”

“What do you mean by tied?” he asked. 

 “It’s semi literal.  The Galra are a race that can, at least to a small degree, control their own quintessence.  The goal is to merge your energies, which requires physical closeness.  Sex is just a convenient medium for it.  The end result is called a bond.  You carry a small piece of them with you where ever you go.  Even from the far corners of the universe, you can feel them.”

That was…extremely romantic. Shiro smiled, blush spreading across his cheeks.  “So only two Galra can be bonded then?”

Krolia sent a sly smirk at him.  “You and Keith very well may be able to, if that’s what you’re getting at.”  Ah.  Always right down to business.  So very like Krolia.  “I don’t know if humans can or not.  I never tried it.  But, even if most cannot, you might be able to.  You carry a stone of pure quintessence in your arm, a tie to Altean alchemy, and your soul resides in a body made from Galran magic and science.  And Keith’s part human too.  His energy will be more similar to yours than a full blooded Galra.  There’s nothing stopping you from trying at the very least.”

Shiro’s expression turned contemplative.  “Would that be appropriate?  Our relationship is so new.”

Krolia reached over to place a hand on Shiro’s own, eyes full of understanding.  “I’m glad you’re putting so much thought into this, Shiro, but we Galra are not the Alteans.  There is no fifteen step courtship process that we feel the need to abide by.  The only person that can decide if Keith is the person you want to be with is you.  How you go about immortalizing that decision to one another is up to you as well.  Humans use rings, Galra create bonds.  There’s no single path to happiness.”

She did not need to say that she trusted Shiro not to hurt Keith with his indecision.  Even humoring him with the conversation was proof that she was unworried.  It was more reassuring that she likely knew.

Shiro resisted the urge to make any elaborate plans.  The only thing he decides beforehand is that he will bring it up on Keith’s birthday.  Keith hated people fussing over him on any day, but especially when he felt like it was expected for them to.  Shiro let himself feel honored that Keith went along with his ploy in the first place.  It was nothing outrageous.  They took the day off of work, screwed around in a nearby asteroid belt in Cherry Bomb, went to Keith’s favorite restaurant on Daibazaal, then headed home.  The simplicity of his birthday didn’t seem to bother Keith at all. In fact, his mood was supremely positive, if how excitable he was meant anything. The minute the front door closed behind them, Keith turned on him with a heated stare, pressing Shiro up against the metal with an eager kiss.  Shiro smiled into Keith’s lips, nipping at his partner playfully.  “Wanna take this to bed, baby?”

“You can take me anywhere,” Keith grinned.  Not waiting for Keith to make the move himself, Shiro slipped his arms beneath Keith’s thighs, picking him up in one fluid motion.  He earned a shocked yelp for his trouble, then a blood boiling kiss.  “Oh hell yes, _Shiro_ ,” Keith’s voice was slurred, obviously pleased by the feat of athleticism from his partner.  With Keith’s long legs wrapped snugly around his hips, Shiro brought them to their room.  It was a little bit of an ordeal with the lights still out.  Luckily when Shiro did trip over a wayward pair of pants and fall over, it was onto the bed rather than the floor.  Keith’s laugh was muffled by Shiro’s weight atop him, but he didn’t seem bothered.  It was quite the struggle trying to find the light switch on their nightstand with a hungry mouth stealing away all his attention, but Shiro did finally manage it.

Keith was stunning beneath him.  His hair was falling out of its ponytail, spread across the pillows like the River Styx.  The expression on his face was all desire and contentment.  Shiro wanted to take it that much further.  His fears weren’t alleviated in their entirety.  He honestly doubted they would be for awhile yet.  What Shiro did know was that he trusted Keith and wanted to be with him.  “Keith,” he murmured, lips trailing down the length of his lover’s neck.  When he reached Keith’s pulse point, Shiro pressed his teeth against it meaningfully.  A gasp left the throat beneath his lips, bringing a smile to Shiro’s lips.  He made sure to meet Keith’s eyes before he proclaimed, “I want you.”

Keith’s eyes flew open.  He struggled to sit up a bit, searching Shiro’s eyes for any shred of doubt.  “You sure?”

Nodding, Shiro leaned down to lavish Keith’s cheeks, nose, and forehead with tiny kisses.  He shallowed a chuckle on the man’s lips with his own.  “I’m positive, I just…”

Keith ran a hand down the side of his face, “You just?”

“Your mom mentioned bonding.  I didn’t get into too much detail on the mechanics, I guess.  But…what are your thoughts on that?”

The surprise on his face translated to his voice.  “You talked to my mom about bonding?”  Shiro nodded.  “You do realize that’s the closest thing the Galra have to marriage, right? Actually, no, it’s way more intense than marriage.”

Chuckling a bit, Shiro nuzzled into Keith’s hand.  “I know.

Keith’s eyes roamed his own for a moment.  Then, slowly, a warm smile spread across his face.  “Shiro,” he cooed adoringly, “you doofus.  I can’t believe you went to my mom for that sort of thing.  I could have just told you.”  He sounded touched though.  Shiro had put in the effort to learn something about his culture.  A culture that so much of Keith’s growth in the last five years had been centered around.  It obviously meant a lot to Keith for Shiro to not only accept it, but actively try to interact with it.  “Thank you, but I don’t feel ready for that quite yet, do you?” 

Shiro shook his head, feeling ridiculously relieved.

Keith’s grin turned wicked again in a moment.  “Well good, now that that’s out of the way, go grab the lube, would you?”

Blinking in confusion, Shiro questioned, “Wait, I thought you just said you didn’t want to bond with me.”

“Forging a bond isn’t something that just spontaneously happens during sex, Shiro.  You do it on purpose.  But, if you don’t feel comfortable with that either…”

Shiro surged forward, kissing Keith deeply.  “Oh, trust me.  I want to.”

Stretching Keith open on his fingers doesn’t really feel like preparing.  It’s hard for Shiro to view anything they did in bed together as a stepping stone for future activities, especially when Keith was so reactive.  Keith being loud in bed was one of his favorite surprises thus far.  Shiro had a kink for it, he supposed.  Not that anyone wouldn’t enjoy getting feedback for their sexual efforts.  He spent little over an hour massaging lube into Keith’s walls, carefully avoiding his prostate, silencing Keith’s cries and complaints with wet kisses.  Finally, Keith grew tired of waiting, groaning, “Shiro _please_.  You’ve been edging me for fucking ever. If you don’t get on with it soon, I’m going to _die_.”

That had been the point, Shiro thought mischievously, but held his tongue, knowing Keith would surely seek revenge.  They decide to start with Keith on his back, Shiro well aware that he was going to maintain his habit of staring Shiro down when most people would have closed their eyes.  The apprehension in his chest was not the kind he was expecting.  He’s not nervous, nor anxious, nor scared.  Only comfortable and eager.  He wasn’t even concerned about whether Keith would enjoy it or not.  Shiro was sure he would. 

Leaning forward to press his lips to Keith’s, Shiro slowly eased into him.  Keith, unsurprisingly, was not content to be a pillow princess, legs wrapping around Shiro’s thighs and back so that he could help Shiro get the right angle.  When Shiro’s hipbones were pressed firmly against Keith’s thighs, he paused, looking at his love in awe.  Keith’s eyes were full of a similar appreciation.  Shiro was suddenly very very glad they had no plans to bond on their first time. This was overwhelming enough without it. As it was, Shiro probably wouldn’t last long.  Still, when Keith breathily bid that he move, he acquiesced.

The pace they set was slow, kindling the ember rather than fostering it into a forest fire.  Shiro didn’t mind.  He wanted this to be good for Keith.  He’d go as slow as they needed to.  Growing accustomed to the familiar rocking movements, Shiro let his mind wander as it so often did during sex.  He wondered what material the walls were made of, if they would block out sound or carry it.  The Galra were a pretty sex positive race.  Surely Keith’s neighbors wouldn’t mind…

Keith flipped them so smoothly that Shiro let out an ungraceful squawk when his back hit the bed.  Sitting astride Shiro’s lap, all sex mussed hair, kiss bruised lips, and sparking violet eyes, Keith was the most beautiful creature that Shiro had ever seen him.  He looked amused as his ran a hand through Shiro’s bangs.  “None of that,” Keith purred, with a maddening roll of his hips.  Shiro’s answering moan was eaten up by an eager mouth.  Razor sharp fangs bit teasingly into Shiro’s bottom lip, demanding his attention.  His eyes met Keith’s desperately.  He didn’t have any other choice.  “Stay right here with me, Takashi.”  Molten heat lit up every nerve in Shiro’s body.  God, that was hot.  Before Shiro could respond, Keith sunk back down onto Shiro sharply.  Their skin slapped together obscenely.  Those hips ground into his own firmly, making it impossible for Shiro’s focus to stray anywhere except the tantalizing gaze.  Keith didn’t just want to make love to Shiro.  That would have been too easy.  Keith wanted to consume his every thought, fill him up with everything Keith was until Shiro forgot his own name.

Shiro was powerless and had absolutely no desire to deny him.

Everything was so much more intense with Keith’s insistence that their eyes remained locked.  It was a challenge sometimes.  Keith was _good_ at this.  His ridiculous stamina allowing him to continue the full body roll he had going.  He knew just when to pull his body up and press back down to ensured he squeezed Shiro’s length so exquisitely that Shiro couldn’t stop shivering.  It was all Shiro could do to match his pace, prosthetic arm angling Keith’s hips so that he couldn’t help but nail Keith’s sweet spot on every stroke.  Neither of them was fit to last, Keith so far on edge from Shiro’s thorough prep and Shiro hopelessly overcome by the intimacy of being _forced_ to stay in the moment for once.  In a weird way, it disappointed Shiro when that heat building in his groin started coming loose.  Keith broke first, nails biting into Shiro’s pecs as he lost himself his release.  Keith never looked away.  Not even for a moment.  Shiro got a front row seat to the rising desperation that melted into unfocused bliss.  It was overwhelming in the most seductive way possible.  Shiro surrendered effortlessly to the wave of pleasure that swept him off his feet.

Shiro registered that Keith had collapsed forward onto his chest and that his stomach and Keith’s were both sticky messes from Keith’s release.  That was bound to get gross in a little while, but Shiro was far too content to care.  When he could feel his arms again, he made the effort to pull out of his partner and rearrange his legs into a less strenuous position.  Shiro was half convinced Keith had fallen asleep, when a quiet voice laughed, “Best birthday present ever.”

Shiro pressed a kiss to Keith’s sweaty hair.  “Birthday’s not over yet,” he pointed out, voice dripping innuendo.

As always, Keith had no trouble meeting Shiro halfway.

Later, much later, when Keith had finally tired himself out and was dozing happily in Shiro’s arms, Shiro let his thoughts drift on that journey that had been denied all evening.  Shiro kept waiting for it to feel bizarre to be here, with Keith.  In a way, that was what he had been fearful of all along.  Like, one day it would suddenly kick in that this man had once been the boy Shiro had taken under his wing at the tender age of 15.  And that Shiro would feel his skin crawl with how strange it was to have gone from there to here.  Or maybe, it would catch up to him that only half a year, Shiro had still been married to another man.  A dying marriage, yes, but a marriage nonetheless.  But, nothing like that reared its head.  Shiro guessed, left hand trailing idly up and down Keith’s arm, that it was probably because Shiro hadn’t taken just six months to fall in love with Keith this completely.

He had taken ten years.

There were likely millions of universes out there, where Shiro had figured it out much sooner.  Shiro couldn’t find it in himself to feel jealous of those other versions of himself.  The journey had been long, but he had made it safely to where he belonged.  He was home.  Not necessarily here, in this house.  But rather here, in a space he and Keith had carved out for themselves.  With Keith in his arms and in his heart.  Anywhere was home if he had that.

Maybe it wasn’t true in every universe, but it certainly was in this one; he and Keith were a study in inevitability.  No matter how far they drifted, they’d always come right back together again.  Shiro vowed he would make every effort not to take that, or Keith, for granted.  After all, their lives weren’t over just because they got together.  Nothing was as simple as finding your happiness in one person or place, but rather how you proceeded once you found what you were looking for.  Shiro had no idea what the future held.

But for once, he wasn’t scared of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's a wrap. The ending is super cheesy, I know. I had to give it some sort of sweeping conclusion type feel tho. If you think I wasn’t listening to “A Kiss with a Fist” when writing the Sheith fight scene, you’re insane XD And the song Keith was humming during Shiro’s nightmare was “Enjoy the Silence” by Lacuna Coil. It’s just so pretty!
> 
> Please please please share your thoughts about this chapter with me. I adore hearing from you guys. And I do have one more bit to finish and definitely need the support. Aaaand, in case you ever wanna chat, I'm @kairiofknives on twitter and blog a crap ton still on kairiofknives(dot)tumbl(dot)com.
> 
> Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays! 
> 
> Note: I am sorry that I never got the epilogue out. It just wasn't coming out like I planned. So it goes. This fic is as complete as it's gonna be. Love y'all. You guys rock.

**Author's Note:**

> Being a good friend is hard sometimes. I really want to stress that both our lovely boys were in the wrong here. And I hope I didn't paint Shiro as being too awful to Curtis. I want to believe that he is a good man and loves Shiro. I'm going to make this clear too: I don't support Keith coming in as this suddenly more attractive option and ending their marriage. I'm coming at this from the same way I feel comfortable dealing with Adashi. Relationships don't work out sometimes. Especially when one of the members is a PTSD ridden veteran. The rate of vet suicide and divorce is super high because they don't always know how to adjust well and mesh with people without their problems. I'm dealing with the Curtis/Shiro thing as if it was a relatively quick, infatuated decision that doesn't work out for natural reasons and ends with both parties being amicable.
> 
> Anyway, I hope y'all enjoyed this as much as you can enjoy a fic meant to fix a very broken canon. I'm planning to continue as finals allow. At least one more chapter. Maybe two. I'll write faster if I know there's a desire for more though. Leave me a comment and let me know what you think! Also, I'm always open to talking about anything on my tumblr or twitter, both being kairiofknives. Stay strong friends.


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